


Not If You Were the Last Guy in the World (Reupload)

by dangirlphillie



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe - Apocalypse, Anal Fingering, Angst, Come Eating, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, First Time Blow Jobs, Gore, M/M, Marijuana, Recreational Drug Use, Sibling Incest, Slow Dancing, Survival Horror, Weddings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-29
Updated: 2019-06-30
Packaged: 2019-09-02 08:49:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 50,240
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16783645
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dangirlphillie/pseuds/dangirlphillie
Summary: Dan and Phil are brothers who hate each other when disaster strikes. Aliens have begun a take over of the planet and when the brothers are forced to rely on each other to survive, secrets come out and lines are crossed. Is this just lust, madness, or something more?Phancest, you have been warned.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> So as I mentioned in the description, my teenage students started cyber stalking me and found my fics. None of them read it (thank GOD), but some told me they were planning to, which is a hard no. As you can imagine, I don't want that associated with my career as a teacher, so in a panic I orphaned the fics. It was dumb. Regardless, this provides me a golden opportunity to edit out stuff I hated in the previous chapters and make this better. So while this is a reupload, consider this the "remastered" version of my incestual masterpiece. I'm hoping to upload daily until we are all caught up. If you are one of my old readers, welcome back! If you're new here I'll warn you that this is a phancest fic. I don't support or condone incest in any way, this fic is purely for entertainment purposes. Anyway, enjoy the angst my friends.

Dan hated his older brother. He made this clear to everyone, including said brother, on a daily basis. He hated his cheery demeanor. He hated his stupid colorful socks that always got mixed up with his in the wash. He hated how he ate all the cereal. And most of all, he hated how everyone acted like they were so alike just because, as teenagers, they were both queer and emo (as teens). Dan was nothing like Phil. He wasn’t some stupid, sunny optimist without a care in the world, and he was never going to be. Despite being relatively close as kids, Dan just couldn’t forgive Phil for not getting the shitty genetic fuck up that was depression. It seemed that Dan always got the short end of the stick in life, and even though it wasn’t his fault, Dan couldn’t help but take all that resentment out on his older sibling. 

Phil didn’t hate his younger brother. Into adulthood, he kept trying to build bridges. He thought that maybe after going away to Uni, the distance would help heal whatever it was that made Dan hate him so much once he hit 13. Phil tried to be cool. He offered to buy Dan alcohol the minute he turned 21. Offered to take him along on Spring Break trips. Once he got his first out-of-college job, he even bought Muse tickets for the both of them knowing that they were Dan’s favorite band at the time. Dan accepted these gifts, but never acted more than apathetic to Phil because of them.

They didn’t see each other for a few years while Dan took a gap year after high school and Phil began work at his first job, but a bit of bad luck hit the Howell family, and Phil was laid off because of his lack of seniority, and Dan couldn’t manage to stay in Uni, so they ended up living under the same roof once again. For the most part, they avoided each other. In fact, the whole family seemed to avoid each other. Their mother, Ruth, always spent nights away with friends, with book clubs and art society meetings, living the empty-nest life despite the nest being suddenly refilled. Their father, John, had always been a gruff sort of guy, the kind that on TV had a soft side, but in real life seemed rather done with his family. Neither Dan nor Phil had ever been close to him because, like their mother, he was exceedingly disappointed with having not just one, but two not-straight sons (Phil being pansexual and Dan being bisexual). This should have brought Dan and Phil closer, but it didn’t. It only made Dan more resentful of Phil because, at sixteen, he was the second child to have to come out, which was arguably worse than being the first (or only). John went to work, ate dinner alone, then retreated to his man cave in the basement without so much as a word towards his sons. This had pretty much been the norm since Dan was sixteen, and no one questioned it.

Their lives were normal, albeit a little blue. When Dan wasn’t constantly battling his depression with little to no help from his family outside the occasional ride to therapy, he was being berated by his mother for not being able to settle on anything in Uni. That was, when Ruth decided to pay either of her children attention, which was rare. Phil, on the other hand, spent his days job searching, but it hadn’t been panning out as he planned. He had one interview with a radio station that got his hopes up, only to have disappointment sink in as days turned to weeks without a reply call. For the most part, though, the boys managed to live quiet, slightly separate lives. There was still the occasional nasty quip from Dan when Phil would enter the room in search of cereal, or the emotion laden fights when Phil would wander into Dan’s room asking questions like “Why did you use my shampoo?” that would turn into arguments about whether or not Phil’s life was easier than Dan’s. Childish arguments that usually ended up Dan storming out of the room or Phil crying (and then being called a pussy by Dan).

This was their lives when the world decided to end.

* * *

“Oh my God,” said Dan with an eyeroll from his spot at the breakfast nook “Can you not?” The sun threw cheery beams into the kitchen that morning, lighting up the whole room in shades of golden yellow. It was early for Dan, but the only time he could schedule therapy that week had been in the morning, so Dan was forced to wake up at 8AM instead of his usual afternoon schedule. When Phil entered the kitchen, the nineteen year old had been sulking over a bowl of oatmeal, his all black attire contrasting with the room.

Phil stopped in his tracks, trying to quirk his brow playfully and not absorb any of his brother’s negativity. Kill him with kindness, he figured.

“What am I doing now that displeases you, Queen Danny?” he asked lightly. This earned Phil another eye roll.

“I bet you think that’s clever, don’t you?” griped Dan. Sensing that he was in one of “those” moods, Phil went back to his quest for cereal and reached atop the fridge, pushing past the healthy stuff his mum ate to find the sugar laden chocolatey goodness that was his usual fair.

“I can be clever sometimes, but I wouldn’t call that clever. Anyway, what could I possibly be doing other than existing that is making you so mad this morning? All I did was walk in the room, you spork,” he said. Dan snorted, pushing around his oatmeal with disdain.

“Stop being cheeky, you know,” grumbled Dan. When Phil turned around to grab a bowl from the pantry next to Dan, he assessed the younger man’s face. He was looking down moodily, prominent bags under his eyes, scrolling aimlessly through Twitter with his phone on his lap. Trying to offer an olive branch, Phil placed the cereal on the table, along with another bowl for his brother.

“I don’t know, actually. Would you like some of my cereal?” said Phil as he grabbed the milk from the fridge. Seating himself at the table, he plopped the milk between them and began to pour himself a bowl.

“I’m good. I’m already fat enough, thanks,” mumbled Dan as he typed on his phone, still refusing to meet Phil’s eyes. With a frown, Phil took a bite of his cereal. Dan certainly wasn’t the beanpole Phil was, but by no means was his little brother _fat_. Still, Phil knew it would be useless to vocalize this, because there was no one’s opinion Daniel valued less than his brother’s.

They sat in silence for a while before Dan sighed, locking his phone and leaning back in his seat casually.

“It’s your walk, okay? You’re doing your ‘just fucked’ walk trying to rub it in my face that you get guys and I don’t,” spat Dan. Phil stopped eating, surprised at the venom in his voice. When he looked up from his cereal, Dan couldn’t help but feel more angry at the dopey expression on his face. Swallowing, Phil shook his head patronizingly and looked back down at his cereal.

“First of all,” said Phil in between bites “That’s not true. I haven’t had sex with anyone in a long time. Not that that’s any of your business. And second of all, even if that were the case, that’s a very stupid thing to get all upset and jealous over, Daniel.” From the corner of his eye, Phil could see Dan prickle with irritation at the use of his full name. There was nothing that got under his skin more than Phil acting like the older, wiser sibling. Phil knew this, of course.

“Who said I was jealous?” retorted Dan immediately. Now it was Phil’s turn to roll his eyes.

“Oh please. You’re just trying to find something to be upset about because you didn’t get enough sleep last night,” said Phil. This really made Dan mad, as he stood up and began pacing around the kitchen.

“Stop acting like our mum, I’m not ten Philip,” yelled Dan “And besides, don’t pretend you don’t love to flaunt how oh-so-perfect you are every fucking five minutes you’re in this house. Philly, with his college degree and booming Grindr profile and sweet demeanor that everyone loves. It’s sickening and cliché.”

Phil scoffed, not even bothering to look up from his cereal. It wasn’t like him to engage with Dan when he was like this, but it was so irritating just how touchy he got sometimes. Phil was starting to get sick of walking on eggshells.

“Oh yeah, I’m so great, living at home at 27 with no job, much less a partner. I’m really living the dream,” sassed Phil. He finished off his cereal, standing up to place the bowl in the sink. He was met with Dan standing in front of it, arms crossed and cheeks puffed up. It made him look five years younger, in Phil’s mind, and didn’t help with his urge to patronize further. If he hadn’t been angry, Phil might think he looked a little cute. But he was angry—and tired of the fighting, if he were honest with himself.

“Move,” said Phil with exhaustion. Dan glared.

“Make me,” he responded. Phil sighed, placing on the bowl on the counter.

“You know, for someone who doesn’t want to be treated like he’s ten, you sure act like you’re in grammar school,” replied Phil. He went about tidying up the rest of their breakfast, including scooping out Dan’s oatmeal into the bin. Dan muttered to himself, something about “yeah well at least I’m not boring” but Phil ignored him. As he was finishing up cleaning, Dan finally stopped muttering and spoke to him.

“So I guess what I’ve learned from this is you weren’t walking funny because of some guy, but rather it’s because you have a giant stick up your ass like always,” snapped Dan. At this point, Phil had had it. He whipped around, glaring at his little brother full force, enough to make Dan take a step back toward the den. 

“My god, can you stop being such a dick! I’m done with this conversation,” yelled Phil.

Dan didn’t reply, instead he just stalked off like he always did when he lost an argument, only stopping to shoot an acidic look Phil’s way before heading out the door with his mom’s keys

* * *

Phil spent the day sending out resumes on Indeed and tidying the house. His father was away at work, which while not all that different than when he was home, still put a mental relief on Phil. He began to feel calmer when his mother left to go on one of her various “Girl’s Trips” she had planned throughout the year—this time to some type of quilting convention in Brighton. She left via cab after only a quick peck on Phil’s cheek while he did dishes and a short “bye” that sounded as cold as the kiss felt. For an hour or so, Phil had the whole place to himself. Then Dan came in with not so much as a “hello,” slamming the door behind him and tromping up the stairs noisily. Phil heard the sound of Dan’s bed legs scraping the floor as he presumably immediately lept unceremoniously into bed. Ignoring him, Phil continued to modify and send out resumes on his laptop on the couch in the den.

The house was silent, as usual, but it was calm. When Phil would think back on it later, it was the calm before the storm.

Six o’clock rolled around with no sign of John. Phil didn’t question it, didn’t call his cell phone, and simply went about making dinner because when their mum wasn’t around, Phil did the cooking. He wasn’t good at it by any means, but he at least had the sense to try to attempt to make something other than frozen pizza. Setting up the Crockpot on the counter, Phil emptied a few cans of soup into the bowl and added a thawed chicken breast. He set the crockpot to high, washed his hands, and began chopping up some celery.

The majority of his day had been spent sending out resumes, replying to emails, making follow-up calls, and, yes, interspersing these activities with playing his ongoing Sims 4 game. The true highlight of his day was when his one Sim, Dil, got abducted and impregnated by aliens. It was dorky but true. Yet he felt relief in cooking because it gave him something else to focus on that was necessary but not nearly as mind numbing. Usually Phil’s nights wound down after dinner as well. After this, his plans were to play some Mario Kart and go to bed early, since he had a few interviews lined up for the next day near one of the bigger cities about an hour away. While Phil certainly didn’t like living at home, he didn’t find the monotony to be too bad. Phil was laid back enough that he was able to take this transition period in mostly stride. Occasionally, he found himself frustrated, particularly at his lack of social life, but for the most part, it was fine.

Dan, on the other hand, seemed to oscillate between restless and depressed. He came downstairs as the smell of the chicken began to fill the kitchen and narrowed his eyes at Phil.

“Is it done yet?” he asked in his signature bratty tone. Phil shook his head.

“Nope, should be another hour. Would you like to watch some TV with me while we wait?” asked Phil as he scooped up the celery, emptying it into the crockpot. Dan looked away, his lips pursed as a “no” was prepared on his mouth, but hesitated. They had both spent the day completely isolated from people and even Dan needed to get in some social time (sort of like a Sim, Phil thought idly).

Dan shrugged, but turned heel into the den behind him and plopped on the couch. His arms were crossed and pulled close to his chin, hands covered by his long black hoodie sleeves. It made him appear small and tired. Phil gently sat beside him after finishing up in the kitchen, grabbed the remote off the coffee table, and cued up their Netflix.

“You like American Horror Story, right?” asked Phil. Dan shrugged, looking down at his cuticles and picking at them until they bled. Phil took that as a “yes” and pulled up an episode from season 3 he was halfway through watching. Phil knew Dan had seen the whole thing and even had a “Normal People Scare Me” sweater that he wore on occasion. It was a very “Dan” type of sweater and looked rather cute on him.

In fact, Phil thought a lot of the things Dan did or said were cute. Maybe that was just because he was the older brother and would always view Dan as his “little” sibling. Still, there was a part of Phil’s brain that always wondered if they would be friends if they weren’t brothers or, weirdly enough, something more. They were incredibly similar, whether Dan liked to admit it or not. And Phil really did think Dan was strikingly cute, handsome even.

It wasn’t something Phil liked to stress over. He believed it was normal to have the occasional incestuous dream or thought. It wasn’t anything extended, wasn’t anything Phil really gave much thought to because it wasn’t even like they were friendly as brothers, much less anything more. Phil didn’t long for anything more; truly, he just wished Dan would like him again like when they were little.

Silently, the two watched an episode of Coven. It was turning out to be Phil’s favorite season because he liked how each of the witches had their own special gift. Occasionally, he’d make a comment about a character or scene, to which Dan would respond with monosyllables or a grunt of some sort. This went on until the timer went off in the kitchen and Phil paused the show to retrieve their dinners.

During this time, Dan decided to go on Twitter. That was when he saw the trending hashtag #lightsaboveSeattle. He clicked on it.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> God, I hate the spacing, but I'm too lazy to edit it out. The original chapter had a trigger warning for homophobia, which I guarantee will get worse as the story goes on.

Phil put together two plates of the chicken recipe he’d found online. According to the recipe, it went best with rice. He heated up a dish of leftover brown rice from two days ago then plated it, drizzling the chicken and soup creation atop. Heading into the living room, he set up two TV trays before putting down a plate for his brother and himself.

As he worked, Phil thought about the new fern he had bought a week ago that was dying on the porch. He was so wrapped up in getting dinner together and thinking about his plant that he didn’t notice Daniel glued to his phone, completely unaware of what he was doing. It wasn’t until Phil sat down and began to dig into the mediocre dinner that he paid any attention to his brother.

“I mean, you don’t have to eat it if you don’t want to,” said Phil trying to keep the edge from his voice “But it tastes fine if you add a little salt.” Phil hated it when Dan didn’t eat because he knew it was a symptom of his depression. He also couldn’t help but take a little personal offense because while he was by no means a great cook, he at least made an effort, which was more to say than the family members. Phil didn’t expect any thanks from Dan—he was realistic, after all—but Dan eating his food was at least one form of admiration.

Dan didn’t respond, he only kept scrolling through Twitter, mouth agape, before finally looking up. Reaching for the remote, he switched off the Netflix and changed the TV to the regular cable.

“Hey!” said Phil between a mouthful of chicken “What’re you doing?”

“Shut up! Somethings going on,” said Dan, scrolling through the channels to find the news station. He finally located the BBC and switched to that. On the screen, the two news anchors were reporting in front of a picture he’d seen on Twitter. In the early afternoon sky was a barely-visible _thing_ with six white glowing buttons on the bottom. It was there, but it wasn’t. It blended into the sky mostly, but a curvature of some oddly shaped object could be made out, like the ripple coming off hot pavement. Seeing the image live was surreal, because Dan could make out the image of a bird running into it than dropping down into the city below.

“What, another terrorist attack?” asked Phil bluntly. Dan shook his head and was silent, pointing to the TV.

_“To any of you joining us live, we are currently looking at a live feed from Seattle of unidentified lights in the sky. According to latest reports, the President of the United States, Donald Trump, has confirmed that these lights are not of US origins, and no other country has laid claim to these lights either. We just getting off the phone with an eyewitness from the States who has reported that it appears that the lights are attached to a larger structure of some sort that is difficult to make out with the naked eye. Some scientists are saying that this is likely a result of the fog in the area that began this morning, although some witnesses on the scene are saying that this structure is, in fact, invisible. Right now, we will keep you updated on further information as it becomes available.”_

_“In other news it appears that in the same city there have been reports of several supposed mentally ill homeless people attacking bystanders attempting to see the unknown lights. Current reports are stating that there are at least 30 of these attacks confirmed, with five injured and one dead. At the moment we are unable to confirm if these attacks are attached to any type of organized crime or terrorist group, but the Seattle police are warnings Americans to avoid the area near the lights. As a result, half of the city has now been closed off by police, causing massive delays and traffic concerns for its citizens. We are going live now to Amy Chung in Seattle. Amy, what can you tell us about these attacks?”_

“Wow, that’s weird,” said Phil offhandly “I wonder if it has anything to do with North Korea.” Dan scoffed.

“No you idiot, did you not just hear what the reporter said? If it was North Korea, they would definitely be taking ownership. No this is weirder than that,” said Dan. Sitting back, he took note of the food Phil had made for him, and finally leaned forward to take a bite. Despite him calling Phil an idiot mere moments before, Phil felt a little bit of pride and fondness as he watched his little brother eat the food he prepared. Taking a bite of the chicken and rice himself, Phil watched the TV in silence as the new reporter in Seattle talked about how the attacks were done via stabbing, with the one death oddly being linked to someone’s arm being ripped off. He wondered how a homeless person was capable of that and thought maybe the reports had it wrong and that guy was in some sort of accident instead.

For both boys, though, a small part of their brains were nagging them. Sure, this looked like something from an alien horror film, but it couldn’t be. That kind of stuff didn’t happen in real life. There had to be some logical explanation so despite the fact they were thinking it and the people on the news were likely thinking it, no one in the world was going to say the word “aliens” just yet, barring the type who always said aliens any chance they got. No, this had to be some type of military testing gone wrong, or maybe some type of scientific phenomena involving vapors or fireflies or radiation. They would just have to watch and see.

“So… I’m sorry about what I said earlier,” said Phil. This was normal. He always apologized whenever he got pulled into fights his little brother started. It was just reflex for him. He wanted Dan to like him so badly and every time they got into one of these tiffs, he felt like it was his fault for engaging. It only served to push Dan away further.

“What do you mean?” quipped Dan, not meeting his eyes. He knew what Phil meant but, as usual, wanted to act like everything Phil did or said was irrelevant. Still, Phil tried.

“I mean in the kitchen, this morning. I wasn’t very nice and I’m sorry,” said Phil. Dan continued to scarf down the chicken and watch the news. He was silent for so long that Phil didn’t think he was ever going to respond.

“It’s whatever, I don’t care,” mumbled Dan. Then he got up to put his dishes in the sink. Phil thought he would return to keep watching TV, but he didn’t. He heard Dan’s door slam and that was that.

* * *

While Phil did the dishes, he kept a livestream of the news up on his iPad on the breakfast nook, just in case. Nothing had changed much except more news of different attacks were coming in every so often of stabbings, but no more teared off limbs. It was nearing 8 now and John wasn’t home. This had Phil concerned, but not worried. He wasn’t close with his father. In fact, he wasn’t really close with anyone in his family since Daniel decided to start hating him when they were teens. He assumed that John had decided to fuck off to some bar or a friend’s house for the night. Who knew, with him.

Phil wasn’t one to hold grudges or hate in his heart, but John really was not someone he cared for. When Phil was little, John wasn’t exactly loving or caring, but he did at least take the boys to the zoo on occasion or taught them how to grill steaks or other little things like that. Ruth was much the same, going through the motions of parenting and meeting the bare minimum when it came to affection. Around 6, both Dan and Phil stopped receiving hugs, but they just assumed they weren’t a “hug” type of family.

This was partially why, as children, Phil had been so affectionate towards Dan. They were each other’s real family until Dan hit middle school, at least. All of Phil’s happiest childhood memories were with Dan. He remembered reading books out loud to Dan until he fell asleep on the top bunk, then shimmying down to the bottom bunk while trying not to wake him. He remembered bossing Dan around as they played pirate games on the wooden swing set in the backyard, which eventually turned to Dan bossing him around since Dan was so damn bossy. He remembers when Dan was on the cusp of teenage hood—about eleven—the two of them fell asleep in a hammock together with their arms and legs all tangled up in the summer sun. Then they got older, and slowly the affection died away. Dan didn’t want to play anymore. He didn’t want to hang out. He didn’t even want to leave his room—he just wanted to sleep. Phil didn’t know how to help him, so he kept his distance. But soon that distance grew and grew and became insurmountable.

After coming out to his parents when he was fifteen, John had thrown up an ice wall and refused to barely look at Phil, much less speak to him. Sitting atop the stairs, Phil had heard John speaking to Ruth about terrible things. He said that Phil would get AIDS and it would be his own fault. That he was going to hell. That he knew this would happen since Phil was so girly from such a young age. That before they knew it, Phil would taint Dan, and he would be gay too. Ruth never defended her eldest son—she just agreed. This happened for a few nights after he came out, and Phil just sat there silently wiping the tears away and wishing that he had never opened his mouth in the first place. 

When Dan came out as well, things only got worse. Now John refused to speak to Dan and outwardly hated Phil even more, thinking it was his fault. To Phil’s shock, Dan was much the same, blaming Phil for his parent’s hate.

But what really made Phil hate John was one night when Dan came home late, his eyes obviously reddened from crying (Phil would later find out, via eavesdropping, that Dan’s best friend was moving town that week and he had just gotten back from saying goodbye) and John, from the den, said “Oh look, my second faggot son is finally home. Hope you had a good night slutting around town. Don’t ever let me catch you coming home this late again, because I can practically smell the gay sex off you. I don’t want to think about that.” Obviously, John had been drinking, so he took the beer bottle in his hand, and with a casualness that was nearly psychotic, threw the bottle across the room, missing Dan and hitting the wall behind him with a shatter. Dan, in fear, ran off to his room. Phil, who had been in the kitchen eating a snack, waited until John retreated to the basement. Then he went upstairs to find Dan. Despite his outward hatred for his eldest brother, in that moment Dan didn’t care. He crawled into Phil’s arms, shaking on the verge of a panic attack, and cried for a solid hour. The next morning, neither said anything about it, but Phil remembers how good it felt to hold his little brother again since he had become so touch starved. It was simultaneously the worst and best interaction they’d had as teenagers.

So truthfully, Phil didn’t care if his father was out at a bar or in a ditch somewhere with his head smashed into the steering wheel of his car. He just kept doing dishes.

That was, until a flurry noise on the livestream brought him out of his thoughts. When he twisted around to see what was going on, he nearly dropped the dish in his hand.

There were now lights above London.

* * *

Dan’s feet could be heard patting down the stairs quickly as he ran toward the kitchen. Apparently, he’d been watching the livestream from his phone.

“Do you see this?” asked Dan from the threshold in the kitchen. Phil nodded, setting the plate on the counter. Looking up, he saw Dan’s face painted with a mixture of concern and excitement. His cheeks were flushed and he was practically bouncing on his toes with nervous energy. A loose curl had fallen into his eyes.

“I wonder if we could see it from here,” said Phil “Maybe from the roof?” Dan nodded, and began to head back up the stairs. Phil followed, glad to see Dan excited about something for once, even if it was… weird. What could these lights be? Why London and Seattle of all places?

As if reading his mind, Dan came to a sudden halt, causing Phil to run into his back and stumble in the hallway. He rubbed his nose, which had banged right into Dan’s shoulder blade. Looking down at the livestream in his hands, Dan’s eyes widened.

“Oh shit—they’re above New York now too. What do you think—”

“I have no idea,” said Phil, running a hand through his quiff “This is really weird.”

“Yeah I know. Do you think… Do you think it could be UFO’s? Or is it just some government thing?” asked Dan sheepishly. Phil wanted to laugh and roll his eyes, but it was the first non-loaded question Dan had asked in months. Dan was actually talking to him. And who was he to say that it wasn’t UFO’s? It seemed crazy, sure, but it’s not like Phil hadn’t thought that a few times as well.

Patiently, Phil nodded.

“Possibly. I guess we won’t know until the government tells us. I’m sure they’ll figure it out soon… I mean, anything is possible,” Phil stumbled over his words, overly careful not to offend Dan in any way, shape, or form. He wanted him to feel like he could talk to him again. About anything. Even aliens.

Dan nodded, sort of glassy eyed, then shook his head.

“I’m just being silly. I just hope this isn’t World War Three. Maybe it’s like, some weird solar flare deal. I don’t know. Let’s go see,” said Dan. The two walked into Dan’s room. Clothes in varying shades of black littered the floor and a few band posters hung on the walls. Phil noted that the ticket stubs from their Muse concert were poking from the corner of Dan’s mirror, and it made him smile. Dan’s room was the easiest way to access the roof, albeit a bit dangerous. They just had to climb out the window onto the landing above the kitchenette, then they could hike themselves over to the top with a little bit of upper body strength. They’d gone up their loads of times as kids to watch planes fly by and talk, and luckily had never been caught.

Unlike in Seattle, it was dark in London, so the white lights shown clearly in the night sky. It only took Phil a moment to find them hovering, not to far away, above the main part of the city. It was clear that whatever the lights were coming from had blended into the night sky—that the invisibility of the object was not caused by fog or mist. Looking over at Daniel, Phil noticed that his mouth had fallen open and he was shaking, just a bit.

“Dan? Are you okay?” asked Phil. Dan’s mouth shut and he looked away with jaded eyes. His shaking hands turned to fists.

“Yes, I’m fine, why do you always ask stupid shit like that?” quipped Dan. Phil sighed, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

“Because I care about you,” he said plainly. Dan scoffed, but his eyes didn’t leave the lights.

“Yeah, okay,” he said sarcastically. But it was weaker than usual, a little dimmed by the intimidation rolling off the lights. It was affecting Phil too, if he were honest with himself. It just felt wrong, so wrong, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that he wanted to grab Dan and hide in the basement wrapped in each other’s arms until those freaky lights went away. Instead, he just stood there beside his little brother, both them of them inching just a bit closer to each other. Words and history and hate aside, they were drawn to each other, an instinctive reaction to the foreign—to stay close to what was familiar, to family.

They stood there for the longest time watching and waiting.

They both wondered what this meant


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So if you've read this work before, please drop a comment telling me what you think of the reupload. I don't have to edit much chapters 2 and 3, but there will be a major overhaul in the smut later on because I h a t e d how it turned out. Also comment what you want to see happen.

Right as they were preparing to leave the roof, Dan’s phone lit up and began shaking with a new message. It was one of those emergency alerts that automatically went to iPhones, like an Amber Alert or severe storm warning. Only this one read:

_Civil Authorities have issued a shelter-in-place warning: The City of London Police Department received several conflicting reports at approximately 7:45PM that there are various unidentified lights hovering above the city at this time. It is unconfirmed but the aircraft are not thought to be hostile. Citizens are still advised to avoid the inner part of the city and stay indoors. Citizens are also advised to move to their basement or interior rooms at this time with all doors and windows locked and wait for further instruction from authorities._

Dan’s eyes widened and Phil peeked over his shoulder at the message.

“Are they serious?” said Dan. Both turned their eyes back to the lights, now looking not with interest, but a touch of fear.

“It’s probably just a precautionary measure,” said Phil. Still, his voice lacked conviction and both were edging toward the landing a little quicker now. Phil stepped aside to let Dan in first, and without hesitation Dan slid back into his room. To Phil’s surprise, Dan lingered near the doorway, watching Phil with hooded eyes. He wrung his hands nervously and kept looking down at the alert on his phone.

“So… um yeah, I’m going down to the basement, I think,” said Dan slowly. Color rose to his cheeks, and he wouldn’t meet Phil’s eyes. He stalked off down the hall, pulling his hoodie sleeves down as if they would cover his embarrassment, but Phil followed behind him this time instead of leaving him be.

“I’ll check the doors and windows to make sure they’re locked,” said Phil. As Dan opened the basement door, he rolled his eyes dramatically.

“That’s probably not necessary you know,” he said, his fingers drumming against the wooden door. Phil shook his head.

“I don’t care. I’m paranoid,” replied Phil. The truth was while Phil was perturbed by the alert, he was more concerned about his brother’s reaction. He didn’t want Dan to be scared, but even more so he didn’t want Dan to pretend he wasn’t scared. So he decided to be the overly cautious one—to do the things that Dan himself obviously wanted to do and spare him any embarrassment. It felt as automatic as breathing to protect his brother’s feelings as well as his wellbeing.

As Dan slumped off into the basement, Phil did a quick sweep of the house. It was an older house and most of the latches hadn’t been undone since summer. They were the older twist latches from the late forties that had been replaced a handful of times—brass and covered in dust. Phil found one undone latch in his bedroom from a month ago when he opened rear window to smoke a little weed he’d brought home from visiting a friend from Uni, but other than that the home was sealed shut. He deadbolted the front door—John be damned—and headed into the basement with an armful of pillows along with a hopeful board game. Phil felt it was a longshot, but he would have killed to play Battleships with Dan.

Phil found himself so wrapped up in thinking about Dan that he had almost forgotten about the chaos outside their home. As he carefully made his way down the rickety basement stairs on socked foot at a time, he pondered the lights outside. If the city was sending out an alert like this, did that really mean these could be aliens? They had said they weren’t hostile. But still. Aliens were the type of thing one believed in or didn’t believe in—like God or conspiracy theories or other nebulous maybes. To have something go from a possibility to a reality, particularly something like life outside humans, was world shaking. Yet Phil felt distant from it all. That was a problem for politicians and church leaders and believers—at the current moment he just needed to sort out if his job interviews were still on for tomorrow.

Dan was sat on the cold, stone floor of the unfinished basement so as soon as Phil deposited the pillows, he offered the most fluffy one up. Dan took it but didn’t meet his eyes. Instead he was glued to his phone, scrolling through social media to see how others were reacting to the news. Phil dropped a down pillow beside Dan, scooting close and looking over his shoulder once again. Dan jerked away.

“Don’t you have your own phone?” he snapped. With a sigh, Phil pushed aside the cardboard Battleships box with his toe so it was now hidden under the stairs. He then pulled out his Android and began his own scroll through Twitter. It appeared people were already making memes about the lights.

An hour or so passed like this in silence. Occasionally, Dan would flip to his stomach or lay down on his back. Phil wandered over to the unused pool table at one point, shot a few balls into the holes, and then returned to his seat on the floor near Dan. They grew bored quickly. Of course, Phil kept tabs on the latest reports, but every update only continued to warn citizens to stay where they were until further instruction.

Then, the power went out.

In the dark, Dan immediately whipped his head around to Phil. His face was only lit by the blue of his phone screen, but it showed a visage of shock.

“What the fuck….” said Dan. Phil looked around, blinking rapidly in confusion, then peered back at his phone. He refreshed the news page to find out about outages. After only five minutes, a news article appeared.

“Half the city,” muttered Phil. Dan scooted closer, now peering over Phillip’s shoulder, and Phil could feel the warmth coming off him. Dan had always been the warmer of the two since, unlike Phil, who was rail thin at all times, Dan could and did carry a bit of weight on him. It was a cute type of chub on his lower belly that was only visible when he stretched. The extra weight made him just a touch warmer and Phil found it oddly comforting.

He tried to ignore the irony that it was now Dan looking over his shoulder when only an hour before he’d yelled at Phil for doing the exact same thing, but Phil was the older brother after all and he would be the first to see the hypocrisy of his younger sibling. He didn’t point it out, though, just stored it in his brain for later in case they fought over something petty again.

“Holy shit,” replied Dan “Half of fucking London? Does this got to do with the lights in the sky?” Phil scrolled through the article, thumbing through the bare bones information. The darkness seemed to make the basement colder and he shivered.

“Yeah, the article thinks so at least. I guess we won’t know for a little,” at this, Phil set down his phone and fully faced his brother. Their noses brushed when he did so and Dan prickled back “I think we should stay down here for the night, what about you?” Dan nodded in response and Phil, once again falling into that leadership role as the eldest, stood up to gather what they needed. As Phil trekked up the stairs, he was surprised to feel Dan’s presence behind him. After going up the first flight, Phil then headed to the upstairs and dodged into his bedroom, gathering up his phone charger, a flashlight, pajama pants, and his green and blue bedspread. Feeling a little paranoid, he also nabbed his small stuffed lion, his favorite childhood possession, and shoved it deep into his pants pocket.

When Phil entered into the hallway, Dan rushed to gather the last of his things, and quickly darted out of his room, falling into step behind Phil. In the dark, Phil allowed himself a small smile. Dan was behaving in the same way he did after watching a scary movie. Hovering, clingy, and mortified by it all, Dan was trying very hard to mask the fact he was on edge without relinquishing his desire to be coddled. It was one of the many endearing traits about his little brother that Phil missed seeing. They never watched scary movies together anymore except on rare occasions.

Phil stopped smiling when he realized that this was because, in a way, they kind of were living in a scary movie at the moment. Then he figured that was silly. It was just as scary as a severe storm. Nothing more.

When the boys made their way back to the basement, Phil shut the door firmly behind them to be safe. Using Phil’s big camping flashlight to see, they began to set up sleeping areas. Phil decided to forgo the couch, leaving it for his brother, and made a nest of blankets and pillows underneath the stairs. It made a cozy nook, but he knew he would have to be careful not to bump his head in the morning. Without any thanks, Dan took the bed.

“Close your eyes, I’m getting changed,” said Dan, holding up his pair of checked sleeping pants. Usually, both boys only slept in their underwear, so Dan had only really worn the pajama bottoms on Christmas. Phil squinted.

“We’re brothers. I don’t care if you change in front of me,” said Phil. Dan scoffed.

“Yeah well I do. So fuck off and close your eyes,” he snapped. Phil flopped onto his bedding and couldn’t resist a sassy eyeroll.

“Jesus, alright calm down,” he said. With dramatic effect, Phil covered his eyes with the palms of his hands and stuck out his tongue. Dan didn’t crack a smile. Flicking off the torch, he yanked off his jeans and slid into his sleep pants. His shirt smelled like B.O., but he had forgotten to grab another one and there was no way he was going to hang around shirtless. Not in front of anybody and especially not in front of Phil.

Dan turned back on the flashlight. 

“You can look now,” he mumbled before retreating to the couch and sinking into his phone.

Phil, on the other hand, changed without abandon. Yanking off his tight jeans, his boxers pulled down a little further, enough to show a peaking of pubic hair at the bottom of his happy trail. He then tugged off his shirt, dropping it to the ground to expose his pasty white chest and flat stomach. Phil didn’t have any muscle tone, but he was skinny, that was for sure. His body hair was a reddish-brown, a slightly more ginger-version of Dan’s hair, which looked a bit odd when contrasted with the bluish-black dyed hair on his head.

Dan’s eyes weren’t on his phone anymore. As Phil pulled on his Christmas pajama bottoms, he smiled warmly. Dan scoffed.

“You’re disgustingly skinny. You look like a skeleton with skin on it. You’ve got mum’s genes, while I got stuck with Dad’s beer gut,” he said. Phil looked down at his body as if noticing it for the first time. His eyes flicked back over to his shirt as he considered pulling it back on.

“Am I making you uncomfortable?” Phil asked awkwardly “I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on but—”

“God, why do you always worry about my damn feelings all the time. No, I’m literally just insulting you, get it?” said Dan, not withholding any venom from his voice. Phil’s face reddened and now it was his turn to retreat to his bedding. He grabbed his bedspread, tucking it under his arms as he pulled it up to his chest.

The boys sat in silence on their phones before bed. Reports were coming in about the mass outages. Some of the less reputable blogs and hobby-reporters were discussing the idea of the lights “sucking energy” from the city because these mass outages were happening in Seattle and New York as well. More lights had also appeared above Berlin and Cairo. Facebook was a mess—more so than usual—as people began to panic. There had yet to be any countries claiming these attacks and the word “alien” was now being used by the public. Of course, many went straight to religion as well, and the occasional conspiracy theorist was found to be bragging in a thread about being prepared. It made Phil nervous, so he eventually switched over to Tumblr.

Of course, everyone was talking about it on there as well, but queues were a beautiful thing. While scrolling through his feed, Phil saw a few pieces of fanart for a videogame he was a fan of, read a sassy text post about gay pride, and then ended up watching a 20 minute stim slime video from a mental health page he’d originally followed for Dan’s sake.

And, of course, there was weird porn.

Phil had three blogs that he used to categorize his reblogs. There was Amazing-Phil, his fandom blog, Less-Amazing-Phil, his social justice blog, and Body-On-Fire, his porn blog. For quite some time, Phil had been single, and he wasn’t really a “hook up” type of guy, so porn and masturbation were regularly scheduled parts of his daily routine. Most nights, he did it before bed and passed out. In fact, he’d probably masturbated before bed almost every night since moving in back home. The house was too quiet, unlike his former apartments and dorms, so he had trouble sleeping. That night was no exception, and the paranoia about everything else wasn’t helping either.

Phil scrolled upon a particular video that caught his attention. It was a simple, homemade video showing a guy wearing knee highs, a skirt, and some see-through underwear. His skin was white, lightly tanned, and lacking any noticeable body hair. Nothing else was visible other than that and the guy’s tiny cock. Holding a mini vibrator to his clothed dick, the figure in the video squirmed and wiggled lewdly. After only seeing a silent three seconds of the video, Phil felt an uncomfortable tightness in his Christmas pajama pants. He was half hard before he even finished the reblog for later.

Peaking around the bannister, Phil saw that Dan was curled up on his side. The lump of blankets rose and fell slowly. He appeared quite asleep, despite the fact it was only about 11:30 at night.

Carefully, Phil slid his hands into his pants, gripping his cock gently. Luckily, the video had no sound. Phil clicked it and watched as the person on the other end masturbated alongside him. The body of the person was quite feminine, but with a little chub right above the waistline, and he had grown out his fingernails enough to show little crescent moons. Something about the video just hit all of Phil’s buttons. The slow, gentle rubs that chubbed up his cock soon got more frantic. Waves of pleasure rolled through Phil and he had to slow down, edging himself so the orgasm would be satisfying enough to make him pass out. Balancing his phone in his left hand, Phil got lost in the sensation of his hand tightening around his cock, pumping it in tandem to the video, with coils of heat traveling up from his lower stomach and making his heart pound. When the guy in the video came all over his panties, Phil felt himself getting close. Dropping the phone on his chest, Phil tilted his head back, beating rapidly, thinking about how nice it would be to have a guy like that for himself all prettied up, writhing under his touch, cumming all over his pretty little outfit…

“I can’t believe you’re masturbating with me _right here_.”

Phil came all over his hand, spilling hot seed onto his fist, but the feeling was not reveled in. Instead, his blood was running ice cold. _Shit._

He didn’t know how to breathe, much less what to say. Did he deny it? Clearly, Dan had seen it. Did he apologize? Phil’s brain had now switched from one type of frantic thought to another. Pulling his hand away, he rubbed it along the bottom of his bedspread, staining it with cum while also trying not to be too obvious about what he was wiping off. Dan already knew enough, but he didn’t need to know that Phil had cum.

“Like seriously, I can you hear you fapping away, and it’s disgusting so can you like not for one day you fucking porn addict,” came Dan’s voice from the darkness. Phil just laid there on his back, breathing heavily and not responding.

Making a noise of contempt, Phil heard Dan rolled back over and readjust the blankets. Doing the same (and ignoring the wet spot), Phil fell into a fretful sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Panic attacks

Phil awoke to blinding light. And screaming.

At first, he assumed it was a dream, despite the pounding in his heart and head. Once he realized it wasn’t a dream, Phil panicked, stuck in the type of disorientation that made his head spin.

Light, light light—but from where? Screaming, ear piercing—Dan.

Without much thought as to what it all meant, Phil leapt from his spot under the stairs, bumping his head on the bannister in the process, and made his way to the couch where he’d last seen Dan. There Phil found him, all wrapped up in the blankets and wide eyed in the false daylight that filled the room. Phil reached for him. Without hesitation, Dan jumped into his arms and clung to his brother just like he used to when they were little. They both looked out the small basement window in shock, terrified and confused.

“What the fuck, what the actual fuck, Phil what the fuck—” babbled Dan. With a shake of his head, Phil gripped his arm and yanked him into the basement closet, the one where their mother stored extra cleaning supplies. Pushing out the mops and brooms unceremoniously while Dan looked at the window wide-eyed, Phil pulled them both in. A second thought popped into his head and quickly, before he lost his nerve, Phil darted into the basement, grabbed his blue and green bedspread, and brought that into the closet as well.

Upon returning to the closet, Phil was met with a desperate, shaky hug. Dan was crying now, not because of anything in particular other than the surge of emotions that the adrenaline brought like a wave before retreating back to calmer seas. Phil still felt only half awake, unsure what was actually happening.

“Dan… Dan what is that? Where is that light coming from?” he asked. Dan was hiccupping at this point, so Phil held him close. Knowing that Dan was in a state of shock, Phil couldn’t help but take a bit advantage of the situation and buried his nose into Daniel’s sweaty curls. He smelled familiar, like home.

When he calmed down enough to talk, Dan immediately pulled away and found his way to the other side of the small closet, his back pressed against the plaster. He rubbed his eyes, focusing on the crack of light underneath the door. He sniffled.

“I was awake, keeping an eye on updates on Twitter when out of nowhere there was this loud metallic noise and then—then those fucking floodlights filled the room like it was a football stadium or some shit. I don’t know what it is, but it’s unnatural and it’s close. Holy shit, what’s going on?” Dan’s hands were still shaking and he tried to hide it by pushing them behind him and sitting against the wall. He slid to the floor, still looking at the crack in the door. Phil was silent. He heard the sharp, metallic sound the emanated from large light fixtures—exactly like football stadium lights humming into the night silently. He too slid on the floor, pulling the blanket up to his knees.

“I… I don’t know. L-let’s check online,” Phil sputtered. Phil thought _this couldn’t be aliens. It was the government, or the sun flare was getting worse or--_

What sounded like a garbage truck driving by accompanied the moving of the lights. Dan, pulled back into panic mode completely, glued himself to Phil’s side, clinging to him and squeezing his eyes shut against his older brother’s shoulder. The noise was loud, filling up the entire basement, and the light peaking in from under the door dimmed, moved, then reappeared. With childlike fear, Phil pulled the blanket over his and Dan’s head, holding onto his younger sibling with equal tightness. They stayed like this until silence filled the basement again apart from the present yet subtle humming of the lights.

They didn’t breathe for a few moments, until Dan yanked the blanket off their heads and pulled away from Phil. He grappled his phone from the floor and slid open the lock screen—although he did have to enter the password a few times because of his quaking hands. It was stuffy inside the closet so with hesitation, Phil peeled the blanket away from his bare chest, still breathing heavy. He watched the crack under the door as Dan began typing in keywords into Google. When Dan gasped, Phil felt his stomach clench.

“What?” asked Phil. Dan didn’t answer, he only sat there in frustrating silence while scrolling through a news article. This time, with more panicked sharpness, Phil said “What is it? Tell me!” Dan looked up, even more shaky than last time, and bit his lip.

“It’s—It’s the lights. They-they they’re attached to… ships. Like, the US government is saying that these—these lights are attached to these invisible ships and they’re moving through the cities and shining floodlights into people’s houses and-and then people come out of those ships and—” at this point, Dan started to hyperventilate, dropping the phone to the ground and grabbing onto his hair. Tear drops fell off the tip of his nose as he began to cry in earnest, his chest heaving with a panic attack. Dan shook like a leaf, thoughts running through his mind about his heart stopping. 

Phil had only helped Dan through a panic attack a few times, so he sat there for a moment, unsure what to do. The only two other times he’d helped his little brother come down from a panic attack were after the incident with their father, and when, driving home from a therapy appointment, Phil hit a patch of ice that sent the car spinning down the street. Both they and the car had been fine, luckily, but Dan started to hyperventilate the moment they stopped moving and wouldn’t get calm until Phil began to talk him down. It was another one of those moments neither of them ever talked about.

Despite the fact he was dying to pick up the phone and read for himself what was going on, Phil crawled over to Dan, taking both of his wrists gently and pulling them away from his face. If there were creatures of some sort roaming about, they needed to stay quiet.

“Listen, you’re having a panic attack. You need to calm down before we do anything else. I need you to focus on breathing normally, okay? Um, can you breathe with me?” asked Phil. Dan nodded slightly, but tears still fell from his eyes as he heaved sharp breaths loudly. Letting go of his wrists, Phil reached over and put a hand on his own chest, then on Dan’s. After the car incident, he'd read a little online how to help someone with a panic attack. There wasn’t an exact science on the matter, but sometimes people liked to be touched but not constricted. Dan flinched under Phil’s hand, but didn’t move away fully. Phil took a long, deep breath in.

“Try breathing like that with me, Danny,” said Phil, using his childhood nickname. This got Dan’s attention, and he looked up with a tear stained face. Phil breathed in slowly and when Dan tried to copy him, his chest shuddered. Phil shook his head.

“Keep trying. You need to breath in,” Phil demonstrated “And out.” Phil let out a long exhale, and Dan managed to emulate him without shaking so much. They took one more mirrored breath together, and then Phil dropped his hand.Still sniffling, Dan curled up in the opposite corner and pulled Phil’s blanket up to his chin. He was still shaking, but the hyperventilating stopped. Phil grabbed Dan’s phone to read the report. It was from the BBC and read:

_4 November, 2018_

_LONDON—More than 4000 reports of strange activity by an unidentified object have been received by the Ministry of Defense over the past six hours in primarily London and surrounding areas. The same phenomena has been identified in over 20 cities worldwide with similar events. The US Department of Defense has confirmed that these attacks are from a non-terrestrial entity. We have a full breakdown of the situation as well as current information on how to stay safe the in our recap section below:_

_CURRENT WARNINGS AND ADVISORIES_

_Civil Authorities have issued a shelter-in-place warning: The City of London Police Department received several conflicting reports at approximately 7:45PM that there were various unidentified lights hovering above the city. At 2:15 AM, it has been confirmed that these lights are moving and shining into homes. People have been seen exiting what appears to be transparent objects above the lights. These people, who are of unknown origin, are armed and dangerous and are estimated to have killed at least 10 civilians at the time of this report. It is an official warning that these aircraft and people are considered hostile. Citizens are advised to stay indoors. If not indoors, it is advised to find a shelter or hiding spot in which one is not clearly visible. Citizens are also advised to move to their basement or interior rooms at this time with all doors and windows locked. Noise should be kept to a minimum and radios should be listened to at the lowest possible setting for updates. Please standby for further instruction._

_Thursday 11:30 PM-- While the current body count is uncertain, reports are coming in that adults appearing within the age range of 20 to 50 have been exiting what seems to be transparent aircraft ready to attack any citizens upon contact. Some reports have come in that these attackers have looked like or have been known neighbors and friends, so many civil authorities are warning citizens to not allow anyone into their homes at this time._

_Friday 1:30 AM-- Reports from the United States have confirmed that these aircraft and attacks are not of terrestrial origin. The Department of Defense has released a statement world wide announcing that this is indeed an attack from an entity foreign to our planet. Contact has yet to be made with these entities to evaluate their intentions, but due to the attacks being linked to these crafts, they are assumed to be hostile._

_Friday 2:09AM—Reports are coming in the unidentified aircraft are moving about London shining lights into homes. Civil authorities have released further statements on proper precautions. The intentions of this movement are unknown. It is unclear whether the same lights in different cities globally are taking the same actions as multiple power failures have made communication difficult globally._

The last update had been 20 minutes prior, as it was now 2:29. Phil fell back against the wall in shock, mouth agape. It was confirmed—these really were aliens.

Aliens coming to Earth—particularly attacking the planet like some cheesy sci-fi film—was a bit hard for Phil to process. Obviously, this was technically within the realm of possibility, but it just seemed so excessively outlandish that Phil felt certain this was all a mistake, delusion, or dream. Dan, on the other hand, easily accepted this new reality to the point of fear. He cocooned in the corner sweating all over Phil’s bedspread, his eyes glazing over a bit as he began to disassociate after the panic attack. Feeling he had to focus on what was real, Phil scooted over to him in the small space then tucked himself under the blankets as well.

They hadn’t touched each other in at least a year, likely more, but when Dan curled up against Phil’s side, Phil felt nothing but comfort and familiarity. Phil had only had a few significant others, none of which had been particularly affectionate. Their parents had certainly never given them much affection. Friends were affectionate with Phil on occasion, but no one really wanted to platonically cuddle, obviously. Before they grew apart, Dan had been Phil’s main source of physical affection.

Nights upon nights were spent under blanket forts watching VHS tapes and snuggling. Once the elementary school let out, Dan would plop beside Phil on the couch, swinging his legs over his older brother’s to rest on his lap. Camping trips with friends meant sleeping bags pushed together. Tickle fights. More practical touching, like Phil holding Dan’s midsection as he taught him to swim at the local public pool, and Dan’s hands brushing the back of his neck as he helped Phil dye the back part of his hair. Silly little kicks under the dinner table. A hand held to cross the street. An arm to hide under during a scary movie or haunted hayrack ride.

When the affection stopped, Phil began to feel touch starved, but hadn’t been able to identify that feeling until adulthood. He didn’t think Dan would ever want to be affectionate again because not only were they adults now, but Dan hated him. Of all things, it had taken aliens attacking the earth to forced Dan into showing his brother affection again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't have to edit this chapter too much, only some awkward sentences here or there and some touching up of the dialogue. If you're new here, welcome! Don't forget to leave a comment. If you're returning, welcome back, I'm hoping to consistently upload a bit more until I'm caught up to where I was before I orphaned this story.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I know it's been a while. I just started a new job and I'm trying to get into the swing of things! 
> 
> TW for death and discussions of mental health

“Dan, the report says a ‘shelter in place warning.’ There is no way I’m letting you leave this house. Are you crazy?” asked Phil.

It was about 4AM and the two had silently cuddled for about an hour before Dan finally pulled away. Sharing Phil’s bedspread and Dan’s phone, the brothers had kept their eyes on local news websites, the BBC, and Twitter before finally settling apart, drifting in and out of sleep. There had not been anymore lights or noises—in fact, the house was eerily quiet. Phil had been nodding off to sleep again against the closet wall when out of nowhere Dan had said “We need to go find Dad.”

Phil had responded accordingly.

"No. I'm not allowing that." It wasn't a very strict tone, but it was the as strict as Phil could get. It was his older brother voice, the kind the immediately elicited an eye roll from Dan. 

“That warning is from two hours ago. We need to get out of the city anyway. I’ve seen enough scary movies to know that,” replied Dan. Looking back down at his phone, he refreshed a few pages, trying to see the latest news on the aliens. The body count jumped from 10 to 500 in London alone. Most countries gave few updates about the situation due to massive power failures still occurring (and getting worse) globally, but the US had reported capturing a few of the body-snatcher types around 3:30. No other news had come out since then.

“Okay, but not yet. Things are still crazy out there,” said Phil. Then he added, tentatively “And why are you worried about Dad?” Dan was silent a moment and refreshed the pages on his phone again without looking at them to avoid answering the question. Finally, he responded.

“I don’t know. I’m just trying to not be a total dick to our father,” he replied. There was a venom in his voice that Phil recognized, an accusation. Simple answers always turned into accusations with his little brother. Phil usually let it slide, but he was tired both mentally and physically. Closing his eyes and leaning back against the wall, Phil sighed in irritation.

“Fuck off. He doesn’t need our help,” he said simply. It wasn’t like him to cuss, but exhaustion usually brought down some of his politeness and patience. Locking his phone, Dan glared at Phil in the dim light of the closet. A tense silence. Phil peeked open an eye.

“What?” he said. Dan scoffed in disgust.

“You don’t care what happens to him at all, do you?” he asked. Both of Phil’s eyes were open now, and he felt a nervous prickle run over his skin. He did not want to be having this conversation with everything else going on. Not with Dan in their basement closet at 5AM. Possibly, not ever.

It wasn’t terribly uncommon that Dan, as the youngest, still clung to the hope that their parents would, eventually, show any sign of love, but Phil had hoped that maybe therapy would help Dan process that it was likely never going to happen. It was a sad fact, but one that Phil had come to accept with (mostly) grace in his age. He wasn’t sure if he would call it emotional abuse, but it was shitty nonetheless, and truthfully Phil couldn’t care less where his parents had been during the alien attack. It was the last thing on his mind.

While Phil certainly held resentment for their father, he also didn’t actively hate or wish harm on his parents either. Dan, on the other hand, oscillated between outward hate for them, and a desperate neediness for love. Phil just cut them off emotionally and lived comfortably with that fact. Of course, he didn’t want to tell Dan that, but Dan would be able to tell if he lied.

“I… I don’t think we should leave the house,” Phil settled on. His answer, like Dan’s question, was loaded. It was both a non- answer and an answer. Likewise, Dan still pushed forward, picking at the issue like a scab.

“What if he’s hurt?” asked Dan, his voice low. Phil didn’t answer, he just looked down at the bedspread between them. After another tense glare, Dan stood.

“Well, I’m leaving this closet, at least,” he said. Phil stood hastily, nearly knocking his head against the upper shelf that held the family’s few dusty board games. He grabbed onto Dan’s arm, and Dan didn’t have enough room to yank away.

“No!” said Phil “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why? We haven’t heard anything for hours. I’m not going to ‘leave-leave.’ I just want some air—and space,” griped Dan. Pushing open the door, he finally yanked his arm away and stalked off into the basement. Still too nervous to breach the stairs, Dan crossed the basement to his discarded bedding and flopped down on the couch. He texted on his phone now, messaging some of his friends online about their safety overseas. For a moment, Phil hesitated in the threshold of the closet, then finally followed his brother into the basement.

Instead of returning to his own makeshift bed, he sat beside Dan, their arms touching. Dan pulled away, immediately, there closeness in the closet all but forgotten.

* * *

Dan fell asleep on the couch first, right as the sunrise was beginning to peak through the small windows. Afraid that his brother would wake him up with a scream again, Phil quietly and hastily pulled his bedding from under the stairs to right next to the couch. He looked over at his sleeping brother on the couch. Dan looked younger in his sleep. Softer. The tightness in his jaw and the ever constant glowering was gone, replaced with a vulnerability and a sweetness. It reminded Phil of their childhood and filled him with a longing to just reach out and hold him. Laying down on the floor facing Dan, Phil watched him sleep for a few moments.

The desire to snuggle again was overwhelming. After their clinging in the closet, Phil couldn’t help but feel extra touch-starved that night. It was an appetizer with no full meal. Still, Phil knew that if he tried to sidle up to Dan on the couch he’d get yelled at or, even worse, kicked or hit. That was when Phil noticed Dan’s hand flopped out off the side of the couch, his knuckles brushing the floor of the basement.

Impulsively, Phil reached out and grabbed onto Dan’s fingers. Dan stirred in his sleep and Phil let go. Feeling stupid, Phil reached around and squeezed his eyes shut, willing sleep.

* * *

Phil woke up to Dan shaking him back and forth, quite violently if he were honest. Squinting in the midday light, Phil glanced up to find Dan with his hair wet from the shower and eyes practically bulging from his head.

“Phillip Michael Howell, wake the fuck up,” growled Dan tensely. Near the nape of his neck his black and white striped shirt was wet as if he had pulled it on hastily. The ends of his curly brown hair dripped water onto Phil’s cheekbones and nose. 

“What’s going on?” asked Phil in a daze. That’s when he heard it—a knock at their front door. The look on Dan’s face said it all. Standing up, Phil brushed past Dan who whispered “what are you doing?” and “what if it’s _them_?” in panic.

“I don’t know if a body snatcher would know to knock, Dan,” replied Phil. Likewise, despite the fact this entire situation seemed ridiculous, Phil thought the same thing. After the lights shown into their basement the night before, everything felt a touch more real, and Phil couldn't ignore the coil of anxiety in his stomach. Dan trailed him, looking over to their front door and back at Phil.

“They mastered space travel, you absolute idiot,” Dan whispered harshly “And you don’t think they could figure out the custom of _knocking_?”

Phil ignored Dan's quip and weighed his options. They both stood in the hallway now, the only noise being the drips falling from Dan's hair onto the hardwood floor. Tentatively, Phil took a step foreword and peered in the peephole while Dan hovered behind him nervously. 

Beyond the peephole stood a police officer. He was unarmed and on the street outside their house was a squad car, where another police officer sat inside on the radio. It was overall much too elaborate to be aliens who just wanted to stab the brothers, particularly since it would be far easier to bust a window in and grab them. Or pose as a family member. Or a neighbor. Still, erring on the side of caution, Phil turned to Dan.

“It’s a police officer. Just in case, go upstairs and grab the baseball bat in my closet. Stay in their until I say you can come out, okay?” commanded Phil.

For a moment, Dan’s cheeks puffed up in indignation and he pursed his lips as if about to argue back. To Phil’s surprise, though, Dan blushed, nodded, and scurried up the stairs. Phil shook his head. If his brother was scared enough that he wasn’t acting as bratty as usual, maybe there was something to be worried about. Another knock snapped Phil out of his thoughts and he shook his head, feeling silly. Despite the invasion that was going on, Phil didn’t see a reason to be scared yet. Earlier the light thing had been spooky; but so were earthquakes and tornado warnings and people (not in London, notably) experienced those several times a year in some places. In Phil’s mind, this was just a slightly more extreme version of that.

He still grabbed a kitchen knife and tucked it in his waistband before answering the door.

The police officer frowned when he answered.

“Hi there, is this the Howell residence?” asked the officer. Phil’s stomach turned. He expected this was just a routine warning about how to stay safe, not something specific to his family. He nodded, mouth feeling dry.

“Are you—”

“Phillip Howell. I’m the eldest son in the household. My dad’s out and my mum’s on vacation. Is there anything I can do for you?” asked Phil. He felt silly, explaining himself as the “eldest son,” particularly since he was in his twenties, but the officer just nodded, carefully almost.

“Right. Well… Okay, I’m really sorry to be telling you this, but your father, John Michael Howell, passed away this morning. I’m really sorry,” the officer repeated himself, his face showing genuine remorse. A part of Phil’s mind wondered if the police officer actually felt bad, or he just felt bad that he was forced to relay the news.

“Oh well… Um, how did he die?” asked Phil awkwardly. He winced at the word “die.” It just seemed so blunt and his tone sounded so strange. Phil eyed the officer carefully, wondering if he thought poorly of him for sounding so…. Uncaring…

“The attacks,” here, the officer shook his head, seeming very dramatic and cinematic about the whole thing “Your father was stabbed by one of the… foreign entities… outside a bar last night. We recovered his body and wallet and he is currently at Taylor’s morgue on 12th street. But I am sorry to report that right now arrangements can’t immediately be made with everything going on. My partner and I are actually the only ones going around telling families at the moment because we aren’t on shift and we’re the only ones who don’t have families. We thought people deserved to know that their loved ones were dead. I’m really sorry,” the officer said again. He kept eyeing Phil like he would pass out or burst into tears, but Phil hated that he didn’t feel like either. He didn’t even feel tired. He just felt…nothing.

Well, that wasn’t true. Phil felt anxiety boiling away at his stomach.

How the hell would he explain this to Dan?

* * *

“Dan… Dan are you okay?” Phil’s voice pitched up. Running a hand through his jet black hair, he scooted a little closer to Dan, their knees almost touching. Dan was sitting on the floor of Phil’s bedroom texting away when Phil came in to tell the news. Now, Dan was sitting just as he was, unmoving, phone abandoned beside him. He didn’t do anything for a long while. He just stared at the ground.

When he finally looked up, Phil felt both relief and more worry as he saw his brother’s eyes glisten with tears.

“I’m fine,” said Dan. Phil reached out to hug him, but Dan stood up suddenly and rushed out the door, leaving his phone behind. Phil heard a door slam down the hallway and winced. Knowing that there was no use, he simply took Dan’s phone and placed it on his desk for safekeeping. Phil went to his bed and laid down atop the bedspread, willing himself to feel something, _anything_ about his father’s death, but all he felt was worry for Dan. Phil was beginning to think he was some kind of sociopath when he felt his cheeks—warm and wet with tears he hadn’t even noticed he was crying. Wiping them away, Phil stood up. He needed to feel useful, to feel like he was helping Dan cope before any unwanted emotions crept up on him.

After a moment, he found himself at his desk, having paced over to the other side of the room in a dreamlike beeline. Unable to do anything else, Phil grabbed his brother’s phone and plugged it in to let it charge. The electricity was back on, thankfully. Phil then proceeded to head downstairs and began work at baking a plate of cookies using the type of dough that squeezed out of tube that he always made sure to keep on hand. When the cookies were done, Phil cleaned the entire kitchen, rechecked the deadbolt on the front door, and double checked the news for alien updates.

Left without anything else to do, Phil headed upstairs with a plate of cookies. Hesitantly, he knocked on Dan’s door. To his surprise, the voice inside softly said “Come in.”

Dan was on his bed, phone back in hand. He looked up at Phil’s arrival. The look had a forced casualness to it and contrasted greatly with his ruddy cheeks that still had faint track marks from crying.

“Thanks for charging my phone,” said Dan in a softer tone than Phil had heard in years. Phil nodded.

“You’re welcome,” he said awkwardly. There was a pause before he stated “I made cookies.” There was silence when Phil placed the plate down. Dan sniffed and met his eyes again. Brown bore into blue with certain anger.

“What, are those ‘sorry our dad died’ cookies?” said Dan, the softness gone from his voice and replaced with the familiar anger. To his rational side’s dismay, Phil felt a prickle of irritation.

“Jesus, Dan,” he muttered, already exhausted with the conversation before it had begun. Dan looked down at his phone, but unbeknownst to Phil he was simply mindlessly scrolling to avoid eye contact.

“I don’t want your pity cookies,” replied Dan “Don’t pretend you give a shit about any of this.”

“I give a shit about _you_ ,” answered Phil immediately “What about that do you not understand?” It wasn’t the first time, over the years, that Phil voiced his rejected brotherly love for Dan. Dan, as usual, completely glossed over it.

“I’m not the one who died. Our father did and you don’t even care,” snarled Dan.

“Who said I didn’t care?” replied Phil. At this, Dan tossed his phone aside and crossed his arms. Phil’s previous concern was washed away upon seeing the look on Dan’s face. As was typically the case, he was being utterly petulant and self-righteous. It gave Phil the impulse to smack his little brother.

“I’m not stupid, Phil, I can tell,” replied. Dan. Phil couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He walked out into the hallway, ready to abandon the conversation, but then turned around suddenly and stalked back through the doorway. Dan finally stood up from his princessy position on the bed.

“Are we really having this conversation _now_ , Daniel?” replied Phil, his voice raising without his thought.

“I just don’t understand how you’re all Mr. Happy Go Lucky yet, for some fucking reason, you hate our parents,” Dan frowned “Or should I say parent?” His voice cracked a little, giving way to the torrent of emotions bubbling under the surface for just a moment before being quickly amended by a glare. It showed Phil that Dan, in his usual fashion, was just lashing out emotionally. That didn’t make the situation any less frustrating and after the insane night they’d had, Phil couldn’t help but get swept into the tidal wave of emotions as well.

“You have this perception that my life is all sunshine and rainbows. Like our parents didn’t react poorly to my coming out either,” Phil softened his tone a bit “My question is how you don’t hate them after what Dad did to you.”

“Fuck off.”

“I’m serious. It makes me mad. It should make you mad,” said Phil. Dan looked down at the floor, suddenly deflated.

“You’re not my goddamn therapist. Why don’t you just fuck off to your room as usual?”

At this, Phil let out a dry laugh. It caught Dan off guard and his eyes widened as his anger dissipated to anxiety.

“That’s rich coming from _you_ , of all people,” replied Phil “After everything I do to try to fix this—”

“Oh, what, fix me?” Dan yelled, anger flashing like lightening. His fists balled up as he said this, taking a step towards his older brother. Phil stepped back, holding up his hands even though he didn’t think Dan would ever try to hit him.

“Newsflash, even my therapist can’t do that, Philly.”

“No, that’s not what I meant and you’re purposefully misunderstanding me,” Phil pinched the bridge of his nose “I mean this, _us_.”

“There is no ‘us,’” retorted Dan, fingering quoting the air.

“Exactly!” yelled Phil. It was loud enough and surprising enough that silence filled the air between them. Their eyes met sheepishly before Phil darted off into the other room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I made some bigger changes to this. I didn't like Phil's reaction in the original-- it just seemed a bit too nonplussed with everything going on. Took out a part of the ending that seemed repetitive (thank you to the constructive criticism on the original that pointed that out!) and touched up technical things like the lights being on (although I'm still a little uncertain about how I like the police explanation, idk). Major grammar changes, ugh I hate my verbiage. Also in the original, I couldn't decide if they were the Lester or Howell family, and so for this one I settled on Howell. Anyway, I hope you like the changes, now that my life is settled expect more writing to come!
> 
> Also if you haven't already I made a Creepy Pasta inspired story entitled "The Disney Mirror Ritual" that you should check out! It's going to be a short one (only 3 chapters) and will be part of a larger series I hope to write about Black Magick Dan. I'm a witch myself so I'm really pumped to be writing a series about Magick. Sorry this AN is so long, thanks for reading if you made it this far!


	6. Chapter 6

They hadn’t spoken for three days. Not a single word.

Phil hadn’t been surprised when, later that first night after the fight, upon entering Dan’s room and asking what he wanted for dinner, Phil was met with silence. It wasn’t the first time Dan gave Phil the silent treatment. Usually, it was over something more petty than their father’s death, but Phil knew it was just one of Dan’s terrible coping mechanisms. Despite this knowledge, it still completely sucked. Phil went downstairs, made up an easy noodle dish with vegetables, and left a plate outside Dan’s room. The next morning, the plate of food was still in the hallway, untouched. Phil cleaned it up.

Updates about the alien situation came in bursts. The various military branches of the nations were deployed, but according to news sources, finding the aliens was difficult since they looked like regular people. The only easily identifiable difference was that body-snatched people possessed oddly wide faces, as if the skin of the face was not enough to compensate for whatever was within the person. Some scientists had gotten ahold of the body snatcher’s corpses, but there were some rumors that used the word “dissolve” to describe the creatures post-mortum, so at that time no one knew what lied beneath the skin of the fake humans. On the political side, countries allied together to face the assault. Some big militaries from the states had shot at the ships, but some type of invisible field was proving that to be difficult, just like a scary movie. The body snatchers were easier to deal with as militaries entered into major cities and began to shoot the look-alikes as soon as they were sure of their origin. Since they typically tried to attack whomever got in their way, it was usually easy to figure it out. To the best of anyone’s knowledge, no civilians were shot by military officials, but that was only because governments were violently warning their citizens to stay indoors. As a result, Phil took it upon himself to trail up the stairs and read the current shelter-in-place warning aloud outside Dan’s bedroom door just in case his little brother wasn’t getting the picture. The door was locked, but he knew Dan was inside because he kept hearing occasional bursts of music or the feet in the hallway headed to the bathroom at strategic times when Phil was clearly downstairs.

Everything about the news reports just felt too surreal to Phil. It was like reading about a bad B rated alien flick. He decided to bide his time. Eventually, the alien thing would be taken care of and would blow over as another tumultuous time in history that Phil would be able to tell his children about. Eventually, Dan would start talking to him again. 

The power came on and off sporadically. The evening after their fight, to Phil’s relief the lights were back on. Since he was the only one caring for the house, he made sure to recheck everything in the fridge and began keeping stock of their groceries. The pantry was quite full with nonperishables after their mother went through a couponing stage a month prior, but Phil knew that it would probably be wise to head to the store to stock up once the shelter-in-place warning was lifted. It made Phil nervous that he didn’t know when that would be and that the police station was not answering his calls. In fact, the streets were empty. A lot of the neighbors of the Howell family fled after the initial attacks. 

After their father’s death, Phil tried calling his mother, but it went straight to voicemail. Phil hated that he didn’t care, nor did he try to call her again after that.

The next morning, the power went off for a while and Phil fluttered about the kitchen in worry. He unloaded the ice tray into plastic bags, put them in a cooler, and added some of their most perishable food to the cooler. For breakfast he made himself some more pasta because it meant he could keep the fridge shut. Despite the fact he knew it would go untouched, Phil left a plate of spaghetti outside Dan’s room that morning. It irritated him to no end that the food was going to waste when Phil didn’t know how long they would have to survive off what they had.

That was typical Dan—a selfish brat. Phil tried not to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. The whole silent treatment was getting to him.

On the third day, it was chillier outside and Phil worried less about the food when the power came back on for a few hours then immediately died in the middle of Phil playing a round of Mario Kart. He headed upstairs to go read a book when he heard a noise outside.

Curiously, Phil headed into his room and pushed back the curtain to peek outside. In the streets stood a woman that Phil had seen before—she had stringy blonde hair that looked like it hadn’t been brushed in weeks, but Phil could still make out that she was a worker from the local gas station. He remembered her because she tried flirting every time Phil came in, despite the lack of reciprocation she got. She couldn’t have been any older than twenty. She walked calmly down the street and Phil felt the compulsion to push open the window and remind her of the shelter-in-place warning. That’s when he noticed in her hand was a large axe, the kind Phil had seen in movies about firefighters, the kind used to break down doors. She pulled the axe loudly behind her and it scraped against the pavement outside their home. Across the street, the curtain of their neighbor’s upstairs window pulled back, revealing a pair of worried faces. Upon closer examination of the girl in the street, Phil could see that the woman’s face was simply “off.” There was a larger gap between her eyes than usual.

Phil’s blood ran icy when he realized she had to be an alien.

Letting the curtain drop instantly, Phil grabbed the baseball bat from his room in shaky hands and raced down the stairs to double check the lock. He looked through the peephole, but could no longer see the girl despite the fact he could still hear the axe on the pavement. Stumbling back up the stairs, Phil hesitated outside Dan’s door. He needed to tell his little brother what was going on as much as he needed to be near him, but then Phil would have to knock and make noise and possible alert the creature to his presence.

“Dan,” whispered Phil, his voice hoarse and shaky “Dan I know we’re fighting but something really bad is happening and you need to let me—”

The door opened and Dan pulled him inside, yanking Phil by the arm of his sweater. He shut the door, did the lock, and shook with fear.

So Dan had seen it too.

They didn’t say a word. They simply took turns trying to peek out Dan’s window without moving the black out curtains. The girl was pacing the block, methodically moving up and down with the axe dragging behind her. Both of the boys shook with fear, eyes wide with anxiety. Carefully placing the baseball bat on the ground, Phil slid against the side wall and sat on the floor. His turned his head to keep an eye on the curtain while Dan stood watch through the gap.

It seemed primordial that the creature would use an axe. As the brothers sat on the floor of Dan's room, silent and shaking, Phil wondered what these creatures were after. Did they simply want to kill all the humans? It appeared that was the primary attack, yet it seemed so odd that they would choose hand-to-hand combat when they mastered space travel. The axe stopped grinding on the ground. Phil peeked out the gap in the curtain even though Dan grabbed his arm in a death grip. The creature was joined by two other aliens which were men with wide faces that Phil didn't recognize as locals. They went to the house of the next door neighbors, whom Phil hadn't seen since the whole mess started. The three creatures easily knocked in a window with a nearby potted plant, then opened the lock to get inside. They rummaged about the house for an hour while Dan and Phil listened to them tear through the house like home invaders. They exited the house. Phil's heart lurched into his throat and he grabbed Dan's hand as he prayed to an entity he really didn't believe in that the creatures wouldn't try to get into their house next. A long five minutes passed until Phil was brave enough to peek out the curtains again, only to see the three humanoid meat puppets start walking, almost limping, down the street. Once they headed over the crest of the hill, Phil finally felt like he could breathe again. 

Phil’s shoulders ached from the physical toll of his anxiety. Dan was the first to speak.

“I think it’s gone,” he said softly.

“Holy shit,” replied Phil. He scrubbed a hand down his face and sighed. Dan sat down beside him.

“Yeah I—”

Right as he was speaking, the power went out, effectively cutting Dan off. The room was plunged into darkness between the black out curtains and the fact the sun had set an hour prior. The boys sat in shocked silence for a moment. Once his eyes adjusted, Phil begrudgingly stood up.

“I’m going to bed,” he sighed. Dan stayed sat on the floor and didn’t respond. The air of the fight had returned now that the tenseness of the day had left, but exhaustion with the whole situation outweighed anything else Phil felt. Phil left his brother sitting on the floor, picking quietly at the nubby carpet, and disappeared into his room.

* * *

Dan crawled into Phil’s bed around midnight, more or less. The digital clock next to Phil’s bed was still wonky from the power turning on and off, so it was unclear, but the dawn had not touched the sky yet so it couldn’t have been any later than 2. Phil awoke as soon as the door opened, but he saw the outline of Dan’s curly hair in the light of the hallway and shut his eyes again

It was late. If Dan wanted to deal with their relationship issues, it could wait. If there was something going on with the aliens, he would wake up Phil soon enough. If he was an alien and had, somehow, been body snatched, Phil wouldn’t care if Dan killed him anyway. He wouldn’t want to be dealing with this mess without his brother anyway.

So Phil relented to the tug and pull of sleep, only breaking from it, momentarily, so he could scoot over to make room for Dan. Dan hadn’t breathed a word. Some distant part of Phil’s brain that was currently lost in a maze of dreams, sleep haze, and jumbled thoughts knew that Dan coming to his room meant something. What that something was would not be clear until Phil’s sleep-addled mind could escape from the delicious pull of slumber. Even then, it still wouldn’t likely be clear. Nothing with Dan was ever clear for Phil.

Phil had his back to Dan with no intentions of turning around. Like it was the most natural thing in the world, though, Dan tucked himself in a small ball (well, as small as he could get with such a lanky frame) and nuzzle his nose in between Phil’s shoulder blades. A bare foot wrapped around Phil’s socked ankle ,which in Dan’s mind was akin to the way seahorses wrapped their tails together when drifting apart or mating. Dan always said wearing socks to bed was weird, but Phil loved his sock collection and liked how warm they kept him.

Once Dan was sure Phil had fallen back into his deep sleep, he boldly and deliberately wrapped an arm around his older brother’s waist. He breathed in his scent and shut his eyes.

Dan didn’t know why he did any of this. He knew a dream about Phil with eyes too far apart had woken him up in a cold sweat. He knew his mental health medication hadn’t helped him calm down. He knew that he ached to be held but feared it as well. Then without accord, his feet led him down the hall (quickly through the shadows, of course) to Phil’s room. The touching, though... that was unexplainable. Or maybe it did have an explanation, but it was the kind that Dan didn’t want to think about.

His therapist liked to bring it up sometimes, but he refused to speak about it other than the first time he had mentioned it in a frenzied panic.

Dan didn’t like to think about his romantic feelings for his brother. Not at all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changes to this included more details about the aliens. I felt like the actions of the female alien were just kinda cheesy and horror-movie esk, so I added a few more to give it more realism, if that can be achieved in a fic about aliens and incest about two Youtubers. Likewise, in my mind the alien's motives, while unclear to the characters, is to eradicate humans and loot their resources. So to me, it made more sense that they also ransacked a house. Anyway, I hope you like the addition, I've been having fun updating it and reading my own writing back. Fun fact, before the big delete, this fanfic was almost 100 pages on my laptop.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Changes include fixing some awkward sentences, adding a line or two to the argument, and stopping my excessive use of the boys calling each other by their first names. Might post another chapter tonight. 
> 
> Comments fuel my life.

Phil was getting whiplash.

A pattern had emerged for the week following their father’s death. In the daytime, no glimpse or suggestion of Dan. Phil’s days were spent cataloging their food supply (he’d read about it in a YA post-apocalyptic novel once), putting boards up over the windows (another idea from the YA novel: boards were from a deconstructed table in the basement they never used), setting little traps for safety (like nails on the windowsill), and preparing two meals a day (using up the perishables first, he figured). In his spare time, Phil had left aside any noisy activities and caught up instead on his reading. He kept updated on the news. More causalities. Less progress on figuring out who or what the creatures were. More shelter-in-place warnings.

A few fringe blogs explored the possibility of what type of people were being body snatched. Some religious folk believed it was the damned, but most figured it was the remains of the people captured by the aliens themselves. This meant there were some kind of physical entities taking over these bodies, even if scientists had yet to decipher what these entities looked like. A picture floated around Twitter of some tree-branch look spindles coming out of a human hand that was supposedly the skeleton of a body snatcher. It only took a day for someone to reverse image search it and find out it was an art project from a Toronto college exhibit in 2006.

Phil tried talking to Dan. He tried to get him to emerge from his cave, but to no avail. Sometimes, Phil just sat outside the bedroom, waiting to catch Dan as he left for the bathroom. No luck. Phil worried his brother wasn’t drinking enough water or having enough to eat. Sometimes, the breakfast plates disappeared, but not always or often enough. Phil started saving leftovers in the cooler.

No, Dan instead decided that the only contact he wanted with his older sibling was at night. After the first night, which Phil had thought was a dream, Dan managed to make another appearance by crawling into Phil’s bed again. This time, Phil rustled from his sleep.

“Dan?” he asked sleepily. Eyes wide, Dan looked almost comedic staring up at him, halfway under the sheets, like a child caught sneaking about. Panic fluttered over his features, making Phil’s stomach clenched as he began to spiral into paranoia about noises outside, the girl with the axe. But the panic died away like the popping of a spark over a campfire; momentary, but not unimaginable with the fire beneath.

“I can go,” said Dan. It wasn’t conceding. It was a threat.

“No, it’s f—you’re fine. You just surprised... you just surprised me is all,” Phil stuttered. Dan nodded, pulling the covers up to his chin, and flipped over so he wasn’t facing Phil. Still confused, Phil sunk back into his warm sheets, which were now warmer with his new bedmate. A few minutes passed and Phil purposefully slowed his breathing. He wanted to see what Dan would do next. Was he going to punish him or something? Pull a prank? Or did he simply want to share a bed again? None of those options seemed in character with Phil’s brother.

Once Dan was convinced Phil was asleep, he reached out to him. Phil steadied his breathing when he felt a hand snake not only around his waist, but under the hem of his hoodie. Dan’s breath hitched as his fingertips graced the peak of Phil’s soft stomach. The hand recoiled and Phil could actually hear Dan taking a bunch of calming breathes. Soon, the hand returned, only this time, it was over Phil’s hoodie and not gracing the skin of his stomach. Dan buried his head between Phil’s shoulder blades, inhaled, and fell to sleep not long after.

Each night brought a different kind of touching, during which Phil always kept up the act of sleeping. It was never anything overly invasive or perverted. It was nothing that Phil wouldn’t have welcomed awake either, and he wondered if Dan knew that but was unsure how to even begin breaching the topic while still receiving the silent treatment. One night, Dan tentatively planted a kiss on Phil’s shoulder. The next, a brushing of toes against the back of Phil’s calf. A snuggle into the nape of his neck. An intertwining of fingers that was then thought better of and instead turned to finger pads brushing against finger pads. Some nights, when he reached for him, Dan was shaking or crying. Others he was quiet, breathing soft, and tumbled right to sleep immediately after making whatever premeditated move it was that night.

Dan was always gone by morning. Hence Phil’s emotional whiplash.

* * *

The power was becoming less and less frequent now and Phil was beginning to worry about their food. They were not even close to running out, but Phil knew that if they were going to stay in the house for a long haul, they would need more canned goods, medicine, and bottled water. Even though daily he reminded Dan of the shelter-in-place warning, begging his little brother not to escape through the window just in case Dan was having one of his impulsive streaks, Phil was beginning to think he may have to go out there to get supplies before it was too late or things were too overrun. He had been listening to the radio at night that he dug up from the basement for updates. It was the same old stuff—STAY INDOORS. There had been one news coverage by BBC that hinted at safe towns soon, but not until after the armed forces of the world had tried all they could. Phil hoped it wouldn’t come to that. The fringe blogs were suggesting Londoners take a weapon and hit the super market. Phil couldn’t help but trust them because what other choice did he have?

It was a full week after the silent treatment. A Tuesday. Phil risked a knock on Dan’s door after picking up the ignored plate of pancakes that he had left outside that morning.

“Dan… I, um, I think I’m going to take the baseball bat and go out for supplies. We need to make sure we have enough food to last us… a while. Anyway, I wanted to tell you to lock up when I leave and hide in your closet with the kitchen knife if you hear anything. The cell towers are down, so I don’t want you leaving under any circumstances, okay? Dan, are you there?” Phil called into the door. He heard a shuffling, then the lock switching, and then there stood Daniel, dressed in all black as usual, dark rings under his eyes, hair messy. He looked like he had just rolled out of bed even though it was almost four in the afternoon.

“I’m coming with you,” said Dan. Phil blinked in surprise. A bunch of emotions were running through him that he couldn’t explain. The one that made the most sense and ended up surfacing was irritation, because typically older brother’s felt irritation about their younger siblings, not crippling concern, neediness, and a desire to be held.

“No, it’s fine. I can handle this on my own,” said Phil. He held the plate of cold pancakes out and Dan stupidly looked down at them before glancing back up at Phil.

“We’ll be able to get more if I go,” said Dan simply. Phil shook his head.

“I only have so much money,” he replied. Dan snickered. It was snobbish, self-righteous.

“You think the stores are actually open and accepting currency?” Dan snarked. Phil didn’t know how to respond to that, so he simply shook his head in disgust and stalked off toward the kitchen. Dan followed, now acting like he dressed—a shadow.

“Funny, this is the first time you’ve spoken to me in a week and what should I have expected other than you being difficult,” grumbled Phil. Mentally, he was already kicking himself. It wasn’t like Phil to pick the fight, but his past confusion over the week mixed with the dire circumstances was wearing at his emotional control. Dan lingered behind as Phil began packing away the pancakes into the cooler, then their eyes met. Phil’s stomach clenched like a fist.

Phil thought about last night. Dan cried into Phil’s shoulder, again. It had started as sniffles, which turned into little heaving sobs, then dissolved back into whimpers as Dan nuzzled his brother’s right shoulder. Phil had pretended to be asleep on his back to see if Dan would still try something. He hadn’t expected Dan to cling to him and cry. It worried Phil.

Dan felt the same clenching in his stomach for a different reason. Last night. Phil’s bed, like every night that week. Those blissful moments that Dan gave into the grossness inside him and let himself get intoxicated on the smell of Phil’s sheets and the thrill of the nearness of their bodies. But for a moment, during his sobs, he had seen his older brother’s brow wrinkle in concern, his eyelid slip open for a fraction of a second, a moment where Dan felt his insides freeze like they’d been hit with liquid nitrogen. Phil didn’t kick him out. Dan had no idea what it meant, but it made him feel a mixture of excitement and pure fear.

In that moment, though, despite the fact they were both thinking the same thing, they kept up with the angry brother charade to appease the other. There was also a sense of charge to the conversation, a currency in the air that suggested they were letting off steam more than they were discussing their situation.

“I’m not being difficult, you’re just being stupid,” replied Dan. Phil threw the pancakes onto a sheet of tinfoil and ripped it off the roll.

“No, I’m not. You need to stay here and be safe. There’s no reason for both of us to risk it,” replied Phil.

“Is this some kind of stupid big brother thing? Because newsflash, Phillip, I’m a grown ass adult,” said Dan. Phil wrenched open the cooler, still not meeting Dan’s eyes as he stood with arms crossed by the kitchen table.

“Really? Because you could have fooled me with your silent treatment and hunger strike. I say something you don’t like and you act like you’re thirteen again,” shot back Phil. Behind him, Dan let out a scoff.

“That’s rich coming from the guy who’s almost thirty and lives at home with his parents,” snarked Dan. Phil slammed the cooler shut and resisted the urge to correct Dan’s “parents” to “parent.” Unlike Dan, Phil didn’t want to shoot under the belt.

“Is that really the best you could come up with? Because _I’m_ not the one who pouts around the house all the time, acting like everyone owes him something,” said Phil.

“Where the fuck is this coming from? You’re the one who acts like he’s this pure, perfect little son—”

“Again, can you budge off about that? Our parents aren't even here right now!” interrupted Phil. They were facing each other now, another standoff in the kitchen.

“It doesn't matter, it's not about that, it's about your attitude. Chipper, perfect Phil without a care in the world despite the fact the world is literally ending,” said Dan. Phil rolled his eyes.

“I really have no idea where you are getting this idea from, but fine, whatever, I can work under whatever stupid pretense you have about me. That doesn’t change the fact you’ve been acting like a child all week and—”

“Why, because I cried in your bed last night? You’re going to go there, Phil?” yelled Dan. At this, his demeanor change. His puffed up chest deflated and Dan took a step back, his back against the wall. He looked like a wounded animal about to bite. The bags under his eyes were more prominent.

Phil toned it down immediately.

“No, I wasn’t going to say anything about that,” he said softly. An awkward pause overtook the room. Dan’s insides squirmed like maggots as regret made his teeth ache from clenching his jaw so hard. When he spoke, though, Dan could feel himself cringing as he made it worse.

“Because I can stop that, you know, if it’s such a damn problem,” yelled Dan, once again on the defense.

“It’s not a problem. This isn’t about sharing my bed, I don’t care about that, I just want you to stop—”

“Don’t fucking lie to me! I know it bothers you. I’ll stop. Obviously, you don’t want me,” Dan’s voice came out more childlike than he intended. If had hadn’t been purposefully misunderstanding him, it would’ve knocked the vigor out of Phil. Instead, Phil pinched the bridge of his nose as he felt an oncoming headache.

“You _know_ this isn’t about that at all, you idiot. I want you in my bed,” said Phil, to which Dan immediately felt a flush crawl up his chest at the words. A part of his brain that wasn’t worried or angry or scared wondered if his brother had any idea what kind of effect he had on his body with those words “But you need to eat and talk to me and not just demand to go out with me when I’m doing something very, very dangerous.”

“Do you think I’m stupid and don’t know that it’s dangerous? Seriously, I’m 19!” shot back Dan.

“Then act like it and talk to me, Daniel!” replied Phil.

“Stop calling me that.”

“It’s your name.”

“I’m done with this conversation,” at this Dan threw his hands up and stalked out of the room. Phil scoffed loudly enough for Dan to hear, but the only response was a door slam.

For a few moments, Phil paced around the room in frustration, pulling at his hair. No one in the world pressed his buttons like his little brother. Since the aliens happened, though, everything was beginning to get more mixed up. A tornado of confusion, anger, regret, worry, panic, love, and anger whirled around inside Phil as he paced the kitchen. Finally, exhaustion overtook his body from the sheer emotional force of it all and he sat on the kitchen counter.

This wasn’t how he wanted his first conversation with Dan after the silent treatment to go. Plus, Phil couldn’t help but replay in his mind over and over again what Dan said about crawling into bed. Phil was shocked he had brought it up, but even worse he was disappointed that Dan seemed to think that Phil hated him somehow. That -- for some godforsaken reason-- Phil, who had been craving brotherly affection for years, would reject some small snuggles, particularly when they were so confused about the world crumbling around them.

Looking out the window, Phil noticed that the kitchen had gone from a soft blue light to a brilliant orange. Sunset. Supply hunting was going to have to wait one more day. It wasn’t until the power turned off that Phil willed himself to get up, recheck the locks and security measures, and grab his book from the den. Heading up to his room, Phil paused outside Dan’s door, intending on saying something nasty, thought better of it, and headed off to his own room. The house was eerily silent.

* * *

For the first time in a week, Phil was surprised when Dan crawled into bed. This time, he didn’t hide the fact he was awake. Rolling over, Phil watched as the silhouette in the doorway (lit by moonlight—the lights still hadn’t come back on) shuffled over to his bed. Dan was shirtless, hair rumbled, and his eyes were puffy from crying. Without a word, Phil scooted over to make room for him. In the shadows of the night, Phil didn’t feel angry any more. A small part of his tired brain assumed he should have felt anger, or that by morning maybe his irritation would resurface, but in the shroud of evening things were different. People were different at night.

Dan didn’t go for any of his bolder cuddles. Instead he curled up against Phil’s back, tucking his face between his older brother’s shoulder blades in a way that was slowly becoming familiar. There was no nuzzling this time, whimpers, or hesitant touches. Soon Dan’s breathing petered down and Phil assumed he was asleep. With that safely assured, Phil closed his own eyes and tried to think of pleasant thoughts. He wasn’t counting sheep, per say, but he was avoiding any thoughts about brothers, aliens, dead parents, or marshal law.

Phil was on the cusp of sleep. His breath had changed, his shoulders relaxed, and to an onlooker, he was asleep, not suspended in that half-nebula that could produce odd disassociations, random thoughts that rose up like warm patches of water in a freezing lake, and falling sensations that could jar one awake. He was awake, but he wasn’t. Dan didn’t know this.

“I love you,” Dan whispered. He curled back into his spot between Phil’s shoulders.

“Love you too,” muttered Phil before falling into a dreamless sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Even if you've already read, please comment, it fuels me.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> When I first wrote this this had been one of my favorite chapters. I really liked exploring the idea of the "mundane apocalypse" because I feel like it's more real, especially after the chapter finally showing the aliens in the neighborhood. I also wanted to use this chapter to develop Phil's internal life a little more. There are only a few changes. Grammar wise, I'm still grappling with the fact that my verbs are almost always passive and I overuse the boys calling each other by name (I think this is because irl I like addressing people by name. It just feels intimate to me). I added in a few lines to add more nuance to Phil's feelings of irritation in the beginning. I also made it so Dan was driving (small change, but it just felt more canon).

“I don’t think a baseball bat and kitchen knife are going to be of much protection.”

“What other option do we have?”

It was only 9 AM, and Phil was already exhausted. He’d gotten plenty of sleep, as there wasn’t much for him to do once the sun went down, though, of course, it wasn’t a physical exhaustion, but a mental one. Dan had woken him up at sunrise with an empty backpack in each hand. Dressed and impatient to go, Dan followed Phil around the house badgering him with annoying questions and concerns. Phil tried to field them all with some sense of sincerity—after all, Dan was probably just anxious about the trip—but he was beginning to get tired. Everything with his little brother was so negative. Phil just wanted to go and see what happened. Yes, there was the off chance something bad could happen, but Phil highly doubted they would die. A part of him wondered if he was just stuck in that comfort of mortality that modern living provided the young or if he was just accepting whatever fate they would meet because they didn’t have a choice about getting supplies. Or maybe it was Phil's willful ignorance. Pushing back against Dan's negativity felt normal to Phil, and while everything else felt abnormal, he found an odd comfort in their usual rows. Then there was the fact that if Phil just outright denied the risks that Dan brought up, he didn't have to face the fact that maybe they were true.

“I don’t know,” grumbled Dan, arms crossed. They stood in the threshold of their house, dressed in dark clothes to seem more inconspicuous “But we have to have something better than _this_.”

“No, we really don’t,” said Phil. He held out the kitchen knife to Dan, who took it with a frown.

“So-- are we taking the car or not?” asked Dan. Grabbing the baseball bat from its resting place near the front door, Phil took care to zip up his backpack and look out the peephole.

“No. Tesco is only a ten minute walk and I don’t want to draw attention to ourselves,” replied Phil. Dan shook his head.

“Okay, but if we get caught by those things, the car can provide some protection and we can get away quicker,” replied Daniel. Pushing back irritation that was mounting by the second, Phil took a deep breath.

“Well the plan is to not get caught. We’ve only seen one of the ali—one of the things. I don’t think they’re exactly lurking around the neighborhood,” responded Phil.

“Yeah, but there may be more around Tesco, since there are more people who gather there,” said Dan. Phil pulled back from the peephole to look his brother in the eyes and found Dan with his arms crossed, looking pissed as usual. The conversation was starting to get out. There were only so many factors that they could consider. 

“Just trust me on this. I’ll make sure we’re safe,” said Phil.

“Okay, but how?” Dan’s voice lilted sarcastically “I know you’re on this ‘man of the house’ trip or whatever because you’re oldest, but seriously Phil, we have to consider worst case scenario.”

“I _have_ considered worst case scenario,” said Phil “It’s not my fault you’ve considered nothing _but_ that.” Dan scoffed and rolled his eyes like a teenager. As he spoke, he waved the knife around in the air unconsciously.

“But have you, really? I feel like you’re just taking this in stride with your ‘always sunny’ disposition or whatever. You need to consider the fact that if we fuck up, we could die,” said Dan.

"Jesus Christ! Could you just listen for once?!” yelled Phil. Dan silenced in shock, not used to hearing him yell. Phil sighed, pinched the bridge of his nose (as was becoming habit), and stalked off into the kitchen. Shortly after, Dan followed him.

“I don’t think you’re considering everything, is all,” said Dan more mildly, not meeting his eyes. Phil also didn’t meet his eyes, looking down at the baseball bat instead. He couldn’t help but imagine having to use it.

“Why can’t you just trust me on this?” asked Phil. There was a pregnant pause until Dan sat at the table across from Phil. Phil looked up. His little brother looked older than nineteen, with the bags under his eyes more prominent than ever, but also younger, with the roundness in his face not yet hardened by maturity.

“I don’t really trust anyone,” mumbled Dan “Sorry.”

Phil considered this as another pause overtook them. Phil could list off on one hand the number of people he trusted. His parents weren’t on that list. They hadn’t been in a very, very long time. For a while, Phil felt like he couldn’t trust anyone, but then he met some friends in Uni and felt a little more like people weren’t all bad. Truthfully, though, it wasn’t like Phil let people in. Still, it stung that Dan didn’t trust him, even if it was understandable.

“I know that,” said Phil “But I want you to be able to trust me.”

“I—”

“No, actually, you’re going to have to trust me,” corrected Phil, straightening his spine “We’re all each other has right now. I don’t know what this alien thing is going to turn into, but we don’t have anyone else at the moment. I’m sorry you’re stuck with me because I know you don’t—I know I’m not your favorite person in the world. But I love you and if I want to do something, it’s because I want you to be safe. You have to understand that, even if you don’t want to,” said Phil. He leaned over the table, hands hovering near Dan’s, but thought better of it and leaned back. Dan looked up at him now from under his mop of curly hair, which was getting progressively more unruly the longer he went without a haircut. He glared.

“Sure, whatever,” he griped.

“Don’t ‘sure, whatever’ me. Come on,” Phil said, irritation creeping back into his voice. Dan sighed loudly, pushing the hair out of his face.

“Regardless of how you feel, that doesn’t mean you’re right. If you want me to trust you, you need to listen to me. Can we please take the car?” Dan’s eyes grew wide, puppy like. Phil felt his heart pick up a little, and he felt odd about it.

“Why can’t we—”

“Because I’d feel safer in the car. I just want to feel safe, okay?”

They locked eyes. Dan refused to look down, his expression both fierce and pleading, somehow. Phil searched his face for an answer before finally relenting.

“Okay. Fine.”

* * *

Tesco was thankfully open despite the fact it was abandoned. Outside the building, a few spilled boxes of cereal, overturned carts, and crushed bags littered the ground. Normally the litter would be picked up by an employee, but not only were they long gone, but the grocery store was empty. There were signs of a rush (likely to have happened in the initial days of the invasion). Looking out the dirty mini van window, Dan noted how much closer the hovering craft was than in the neighborhood. It wasn’t a flying saucer, but it also wasn’t a series of lights like it appeared from their home. It was an odd shimmer to the air like heat coming off the pavement. It sent a cold rush down his spine, so Dan avoided looking at it as he parked on the sidewalk next to Tesco.

“Alright, so here’s the list,” said Phil, pulling out a paper list from the home. It was crumpled from being in his pocket and had the words “Grocery List” printed on top in cheery green letters. It was from a notepad their mother stuck to the fridge. For some reason, the lettering—so happy and normal—felt out of place in the new setting. Could this really count as a “grocery run”? It felt all too apocalyptic for that.

“Canned foods, if there are any left, with an emphasis on chicken and beans,” Phil read somewhere that protein made one feel fuller for longer. He hoped they wouldn’t have a need to conserve food or feel full when they were not truly full, but it was still useful. “Medicine, especially cold and flu and fever reducer,” This was just useful—they were low on aspirin. “Toilet paper and toothpaste,” Phil prayed they wouldn’t ever run out of these items anytime soon. “Then perishables. So we can get cookies and chips, but we will have to eat those first in case they go stale.”

“Ramen noodles don’t go stale,” Dan pointed out. Phil noted “Ramen” on his list and nodded tersely.

“Ready?” asked Phil. They looked out the van window, both surveying the parking lot closely. No one. Craning his neck up, Phil peered into the Tesco windows, trying to see any signs of life. Once again, no one was there.

“Sure,” said Dan, but his heart was pounding hard in his chest. It was the kind of adrenaline rush he used to get from rollercoasters or talking to cute boys online—a mixture of fear, curiosity, and excitement—and made his chest constrict with anxiety. Phil opened the van door first and headed toward the front door. Dan followed with a little run around the vehicle, his heart pounding at the idea of being left behind. Although they had agreed they would split up to cover more of the store, Dan now felt paralyzed with fear and didn’t want to leave his brother’s side. Phil didn’t argue. They walked through the front doors, which thankfully opened on their own since the power had been back on for a few hours, grabbed a cart, and headed to the canned food.

As expected, a lot of it had been cleared out, but not all. It seemed that a large fraction of people had left behind canned chicken, spinach, and tomato in favor of black beans or lima beans, which arguably felt more “apocalyptic.” It was odd how ideas had circulated like that in an unconscious group mind influenced by the alien movies they had all seen growing up in the modern world. Some things “felt apocalyptic” and thus more people, thinking this was the end of days as seen on the screen, grabbed foods that fit that narrative. Phil was happy, though, because chicken meant chicken salad sandwiches.

There had been an abundance of bread, and although perishable, the boys still grabbed a few armfuls. Medicine was nearly untouched, particularly vitamins, so Dan grabbed a few bottles of iron and vitamin D supplements because he figured, if nothing else, it would keep his mood up when it got cold. It was at the medicine that the brothers felt comfortable enough to separate, with Phil rolling the cart over to the household goods section as Dan made a beeline to the soup section in search of ramen.

Everything carried with it an odd, palpable feeling. Empty buildings were eerie as it was, but with the circumstances a current ran through the grocery store. For Dan, the abandoned Tesco—with rotting fruit in the fresh section, a spilled carton of milk that had long gone curdled, a few overturned boxes and carts—filled him with what could only be called existential angst as he grappled with the fragility of human construct that was altered so visibly by what was essentially a blip in human existence. Yes, an alien invasion was “big” on one level, but with all considered-- from plagues to wars to nuclear explosions-- it was simply another event that could very well be chalked up in history by numbers, dates, and executive motions. Meanwhile Dan’s world had been completed turned upside down. His father was dead, his neighbors had disappeared, his city had had a mass exodus, and a strange entity had invaded, thus shutting down his modern amenities. Not only that, but as Phil had pointed out earlier, all he had now for social interaction was his brother. A brother that Dan could not pinpoint his feelings for and someone who made Dan both joyfully upset and depressingly happy. The Tesco—in all it abandoned glory—made Dan’s mind run wild with the fears and anxieties this change brought.

Meanwhile, Phil looked around the Tesco with a growing amount of fear. Of course he had been nervous upon entering the changed space, but seeing the effects of the aliens made the invasion all that much more real. It was one thing to read about the emptying of London on blogs, but with the lights still coming on part of the time and Wi-Fi being hit or miss, it had all felt removed enough that his biggest issue had really been his brother’s mood swings. Now, though, as Phil moved through the home section grabbing packs of unsold, un-stolen toilet paper, he could see the emptiness of the space, the messes left in the frozen section by people rushed to grab food before they left the city, and the immediate takeover of nature upon the dismissal of humans. A squirrel had run past him upon entering the canned section for another sweep over, and the flutter of birds could be heard in the rafters above.

Awkwardly, the boys met up at the checkout line, which was completely devoid of human life. It had been habit to walk to check out and walking out without paying felt illicit. Still, with a shrug, Phil silently led Dan back to their car. They unlocked the door and began loading the un-bagged food into cardboard boxes they had left in the back. Behind them, the wind blew a cart, causing a large clanging to ring through the parking lot. Both jumped, turned around, and then met eyes with ginger smiles.

When Phil slammed the boot door shut, he realized just how easy it had all been. There had been no show down with aliens, no encounters with desperate looters, and not even any scares with losing each other. It had gone just as according to plan. Yet Phil drove in silence, as both were faced not with some movie-like adventure, but rather, the reality of the now-changed world around them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below what you think of my changes! Also if you guys want I might post another edited chapter after work today. Ta!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Mentions of abuse and therapy. Obviously, incest. 
> 
> Oh boy, a lot of edits on this one. I reused so many verbs in the same sentence. Added in some lines to clarify Dan's feelings in the beginning, tossed in a line for the therapist of make him sound less robotic, and then added a little whiskey because no one in their right mind kisses their brother non-platonically without at least a little alcohol in their system. Well, at least not in this point of the story ;). 
> 
> Please drop a comment below. I absolutely love editing this and I'm so inspired to add more. I honestly check my email at work to see if I get comments on this because it means a lot to me to see feedback, even if it's just a "good work." Thanks as always for reading!

Dan felt reckless. 

Maybe it was because he was stir crazy from being cooped up in the house all day and night. Or maybe it wasn’t just stir craziness, but the after effects of seeing the Tesco abandoned. It felt a metaphor for Dan’s old life, which was ultimately left behind. Or maybe Dan had a reckless streak he didn't know about. Maybe everything was just coming to a head now because there was some kind of deadline on the horizon. 

Truthfully, Dan didn't know. He just felt reckless. 

For the week following the grocery run, Dan stopped coming into Phil’s bed at night. He also hadn’t been eating much, which Dan really didn’t notice until one day, during a bathroom trip shirtless, he noted how much more prominent his ribcage looked in the mirror. After that, Dan forced himself to eat the breakfast Phil kindly left outside his door each morning. Lying down on his floor, Dan spent hours staring up at the ceiling, lost in thought. He didn’t want to do anything and he didn’t bother to take his meds. Days and nights slipped by only punctuated by the occasional knock on the door with Phil’s concerned voice asking Dan how he was doing, to which the answer was always “Fine, just leave me alone.”

From his spot on the floor, Dan thought about a lot of things. He grappled with the fact that the world very well could be ending, or at least the world as he knew it. Another part of him marveled at his… relief. If the world was, in fact, ending, that didn’t mean Dan would have to pick a career. His new career was simply “survival.” Likewise, Dan wouldn’t get therapy anymore and wouldn’t be able to get more meds after his latest dose ran out. That relief was overwhelmed by fear that he would be consumed by his depression before he could even make the choice to survive.

After days of contemplating his existence and what it all meant now that the world was so different, Dan thought about his relationship with his brother. He couldn’t help but think about what Phil had said: they were all each other had. Problems in the past aside, this also terrified Dan. What if Phil found out about his feelings for him? Dan couldn’t even make sense of them.

There was, of course, brotherly love. Phil made Dan feel safe, and while Dan still felt that Phil was all too apathetic about their parents, he was the only other one who had dealt with their neglect. Phil was his childhood playmate: someone Dan used to look up to before everything happened. Like most brothers, Phil had his moments of being irritating, self righteous, and petty, but these irritations were shadowed by their sibling bond.

Unfortunately, there were also the feelings beyond normal sibling love that Dan articulated once in therapy years ago.

“I’ve starting thinking about him when I masturbate."

The words came out of nowhere on a Tuesday morning session in the winter, and Dan’s face was burning red. His therapist, Rob, looked up from his notes with eyebrows raised. Sometimes, getting information from Daniel was like pulling teeth. Other times, it came from nowhere like this, and Rob took a moment to compose himself before asking a follow up question.

“Thinking about who?”

Dan liked his therapist, even if sometimes Rob’s recommendations to do things like eat and shower seemed impossible. There had been periods of trial and error before they found sessions that worked. Rob was middle aged, with kids, and had the kind of calm demeanor that made him easy to talk to. On top of that, he was real. He made jokes and laughed at Dan’s ridiculous expletives and let Dan lead the sessions. Dan still stood by the fact that he didn’t trust anyone, but Rob was about as close as it got because, if nothing else, _legally_ Rob couldn’t tell anyone anything without Dan’s signed permission.

“My brother.”

This would normally be something that Dan wouldn’t tell anyone, but it had been keeping him up at night and was the main cause for his lack of sleep. There was a pause and Rob kept his face utterly still as he wrote careful notes on his clipboard. He looked up and smiled.

“Interesting.”

“Interesting?”

“Yeah I… wasn’t expecting that,” said Rob carefully. Dan squeezed his eyes shut and looked down at the floor, his stomach lurching with anxiety.

“You probably think I’m disgusting. God, I shouldn’t have said anything.”

“Daniel, of course I don’t think that. First of all, it’s not the weirdest thing I’ve heard in these kind of sessions. Also, sometimes we can’t control what pops into our mind during those moments. Is there a reason your bringing it up? Is it bothering you?” asked Rob. Dan looked up, his expression comedically horrified.

“Of course it’s bothering me! He’s my brother for fuck’s sake,” Dan looked away again, his face tomato red with embarrassment “And it’s not just the occasional thought. He’s all I can think about. He makes me… want to.. do it..”

“Do you think there is a reason for that?”

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Well, it depends on the circumstances. There are a lot of reasons one might have incestuous feelings. Sometimes it has to do with abuse, either from him or your parents. As we've discussed, you're parents were surely emotionally neglectful, so there's a start. Likewise, I have to ask: has your brother or parents abused you sexually in away now or in your childhood?”

“No, he didn’t abuse me, nor did my parents. Actually, he’s literally never done anything like that. Before I was a teenager, he was pretty much the perfect brother, and he’s still annoyingly nice to me all the damn time. We barely even talk anymore. He thinks I hate him,” Dan picked at his cuticles, watching as his thumb began to bleed. Dan didn’t self harm, but he could see why people did. The pain distracted him enough to keep talking.

“Do you hate him?”

“I don’t think so. He pisses me off sometimes, but that’s how everyone is with their brother,” Dan sighed “But still, whether I like him or not doesn’t mean I should feel like I want to fuck him.” Pulling his thumb up to his mouth, Dan licked on the blood by his cuticle. It reappeared. He wiped the blood on his jeans and didn’t worry about it staining.

“So do you just—and you don’t have to answer this if it makes you uncomfortable—do you just _picture_ him in a lustful way while you’re masturbating, or do you have actual _plans_ to have sex with him?”

“How could I have plans? We don’t even hang out. If I tried to make a move on him, he’d probably report me to the police.”

“Is that true?”

“No. He’d probably just be worried about me.”

The conversation had devolved after that, with Rob pressing Dan for details about the relationship, which ultimately boiled down to the fact that Dan was the one who, seemingly out of nowhere, had feelings for Phil that were both sexual and romantic.

“Yes, I want to date him,” explained Dan. Tears had sprung to his eyes as the conversation wore on, but he held them back and blinked in a vain attempt to hide his upset from Rob “He’s the nicest person I know.”

“Do you think this has anything to do with your parents?” Rob leaned back in his chair, notepad and pen forgotten on the oak desk. Dan shook his head.

“No, I don’t,” said Dan. There was a pause, long enough that Dan looked up through watery eyes. Rob was watching him carefully, but not critically, to Dan’s relief.

“Do you want to know what I think?” said Rob at last. Dan nodded, not trusting his voice “I think that Phil is the only one you feel a connection with. You’re not a sociopath or anything, just really closed off. And even though you and Phil haven’t really connected in a long time, he’s the only one you ever let in.”

“But why do I want to—”

“Well, there’s intimacy with that, for one. And you haven’t really had intimacy with anyone before,” Rob sighed “Do you think you could talk about it with him?”

“What?! Are you insane?”

The conversation devolved even more at that point. Finally, as the session came to a close, Dan told Rob he never wanted to talk about the topic again. From then on out anytime Rob mentioned it, even with the most delicacy, Dan shut him down.

It wasn’t until that moment, with Dan lying on his bedroom floor pondering what the world was becoming, that he actually considered what Rob had said over a year ago. Maybe Dan _should_ talk to Phil about his weird feelings. Of course, Dan felt a little awkward about it all, because Rob had suggested he apologize and possibly explain why he had been so distant. Rob suggested that Dan make an attempt to rebuild a _platonic_ relationship.

Dan, on the other hand, wanted to see if Phil felt the same way.

* * *

The best time to have this conversation, Dan decided, was at midnight as he was getting into Phil’s bed. This meant that if things went poorly, he could easily escape to his bedroom, and that, in the shadow of the night, it would be easier to blame his confession on sleep deprivation. The idea seemed good by night, bad by day, making midnight a much better time to discuss the matter at hand. Dan realized that in the glaring sunlight of the morning, he wouldn’t be able to bring himself to ask Phil if he had similar feelings. It was too real. For good measure, Dan also took two shots of whiskey before creeping into the hallway with shaking hands. With impulsiveness brought on by isolation, Dan ended up wandering into Phil’s room on a starless, moonless night shrouded by thundering clouds and jerking his older brother awake.

“Dan? Is everything alright?” Phil said, blinking awake. Only, Dan didn’t hear him, as his heart was beating so hard and so fast all he could hear was the thrumming of blood in his ears. His body felt dull with adrenaline and sweat made his nightclothes cling to his body. Hovering over Phil, Dan realized that there was no way he was going to say what he had planned with such a scratchy throat. Dan swallowed hard, but his mouth still felt cotton dry.

_“Phil, I know this is crazy, but I just think you need to know: I’ve been avoiding you because I have these feelings for you that aren’t normal. Please don’t be mad at me, I’ve tried not to, but the truth is I really don’t want to treat you like a brother. I want to do things to you that aren’t exactly brotherly. I don’t know if this grosses you out, because it used to gross me out, but now I don’t care. The world is fucking ending, and you just needed to know. Is there any possibility you feel the same way, or am I just wrong and disgusting? I’m sorry, I’m so sorry this is how things are. I wish I could be better sibling, I wish I didn’t feel weird like this, but I want to know if I’m crazy for feeling this chemistry between us. If you hate me now, I’m sorry. We can try to keep our distance until I feel normal again. But if this doesn’t sound as weird to you as it did to my therapist, maybe we could do something about it. I don’t know what, you’ll have to show me what to do. Please just tell me it’s going to be okay.”_

The plan was a mixture of begging for forgiveness along with confessions and a desperate hope that maybe Phil would pardon him. Dan didn’t realistically think there was any way that Phil felt the same way, but he hoped that maybe Phil would at least admit that there had been some tension between them even if it had all been Dan’s fault for being weird. But standing there at the foot of the bed, barely visible beyond the adjusting of his eyes, Dan couldn’t seem to get the words out. His silence perturbed Phil, who immediately sat up and crawled to the end of the bed. Gently, he took Dan’s shoulders.

“Oh God, what’s wrong? Are you okay?” asked Phil, staring hard at Dan who just stood there shaking. Panic had immediately woken Phil up. Dan was acting weird—something must have happened. Before Phil's brain could begin to conjure up ideas of why Dan looked so frightened, Dan moved.

Leaning foreword, then hesitating a moment, Dan hovered his mouth over Phil’s. Phil didn’t back away. Gently, breath shaking, Dan kissed Phil. It was delicate, barely there, and almost prey-like, and as quickly as it started, it ended. Then Dan was gone, disappeared into the hallway. Phil sat back on his heels, mind racing. The kiss was so soft it was like a whisper in Phil’s memory, so quiet that he doubted that it even happened. Still in shock, Phil laid back down on his bed, fingers hovering above his lips.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Edits include fixing my verbs (as usual, I've discovered) and touching up the make out scene to make some of the ideas I was trying to get across more clear. I'm hoping the result reads as a bit more erotic. That's one of the things I'm trying to work on with these edits is walking that thin line between realism and smut, so we will see.

The next morning when Dan finally emerged from his bedroom, desperate for the bathroom, he found Phil sitting on the floor in the hallway still in pajamas with hair rumpled from sleep. Hearing the sound of the door, Phil looked up from his book with calm blue eyes that Dan felt like he could swim in. Unfortunately, Dan’s heart leapt into his throat as he realized that his brother had been waiting for him. Resisting the urge to slam the door shut, Dan swallowed hard and made to walk past him, but Phil stood up.

“Dan, I—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Dan deadpanned, not making eye contact. Unfortunately, Phil stood in between Dan and the hallway exit, and unless he pushed past, there was no way Dan could get to the bathroom. The idea of touching his older brother even in the most platonic way mortified Dan.

“No, wait, you just need to—”

“ _I’m sorry_ , okay? Can you leave me alone? I won’t do it again, I promise,” the words came bubbling up like a pot boiling over. Dan felt so many things, but guilt was by far the most prominent. Right when he and Phil were actually starting to interact again, he had to go mess it up because of his sick urges.

Phil, on the other hand, felt nagging worry. He didn’t know what the kiss was about, but he wanted to know why Dan was so upset. Was the kiss supposed to mean something? Had Dan just never kissed someone before? Was it just a platonic show of affection? If so, why was he apologizing? Because of this concern, Phil stood his ground as they faced off in the hallway when he would otherwise back down. 

“You don’t need to be sorry. I just want to understand what’s going on. Is something wrong?” asked Phil. At this, Dan balked.

“Is something wrong? I k—were you not awake last night or something when I, uh, when I—”

“Kissed me?” Phil cocked on eyebrow “That’s what happened, you can say it.” Dan sighed, long, and looked toward his bedroom, wishing he were still in bed sulking. Phil's hand twitched as he readied to leap in the way to block the entrance. 

“Yeah but I don’t want to! Because you’re my goddamn brother. That’s not—I shouldn’t have…” Dan groaned “Oh god.” He covered his bright red face with his hands. Phil watched Dan, scanning his skinny frame that was only getting skinnier with every skipped meal. All he wanted was to pull Dan into a hug, but he realized that this would only make the situation worse. Realization dawned somewhere in the back of Phil's mind that to Dan the kiss obviously was not platonic. This should have bothered Phil, but it didn't. 

“Look, it's okay. I'm not upset with you,” at this Dan peeked up at him from between his fingers “I just want to be clear why you wanted to do that. Are you lonely or something? I mean, our family doesn’t usually kiss, but if you want more affection I can—”

“That’s not why—no, um, nevermind. I just…” Dan shook his head and finally made a move to go back to his room, bathroom be damned. Phil, with more athleticism than Dan had seen in a while, hopped over and blocked his way.

“No, let’s talk about this. I get that you’re all upset and embarrassed but—”

“That doesn’t even begin to describe it,” murmured Dan moodily. Daring eye contact, he saw Phil give him a sympathetic smile. Worry still stormed behind his eyes despite the tenderness Phil was trying to show.

“Okay, right. I just want to know why. Did I do something wrong?” asked Phil. For a moment, Dan allowed himself to stare, dumbly. Then he blinked a few times in confusion and began scratching the back of his neck.

“No. No you didn’t. I did. I mean, I kissed—I kissed you. That’s not normal I’m-I’m your brother,” said Dan, voice shaking like his hands. Taking a leap of faith, Phil dared to place his hands on Dan’s shoulder, causing the younger to flinch away. While Dan avoided eye contact, Phil examined him closely and held firm.

“Well no it’s not normal for our family, but plenty of families kiss,” Phil paused, considering if he should ask, worried that letting Dan in on his realization would scare the younger off “Or was it something else that made you want to kiss me?”

A long, loaded silence made Dan turn an even more violent shade of red. Phil took this as a sign of admittance and dropped his hand from Dan's shoulder. Now that it was out in the open, he wasn't sure how to respond. 

“Oh…” he said softly. Dan, looking away, nodded grimly.

“Um, yeah,” he confirmed. Inside, his stomach was flipping around so much, Dan was certain he was going to hurl. An even longer pause. Dan started walking toward his bedroom with full intentions of burying himself under the covers and never coming out. Once again, Phil stopped him.

“Hey,” he said. Dan looked up, irritation fluttering over his otherwise mortified face.

“What, Phillip?” he asked with no lack of venom at saying his brother’s name. Phil paused, backed away a little, then set his mouth in a firm line.

“It's okay," he said after a silence that seemed to go on forever. Their eyes locked in an argument of their own. Nothing felt certain. It felt like Phil was pulling Dan in as he pushed, pushed, pushed away, yet another part of Dan wanted to be yanked in further. Dan was drowning and Phil couldn't pull him up without going under himself. They stared and stared at each other, neither knowing if they would break with a kiss or a slap in the face. There was anger and tension and sadness and confusion and somewhere bubbling under the surface a nervous, fluttering love and adoration. Phil felt dizzy; Dan felt sick. 

Nevertheless, Dan disappeared into his bedroom with a slam of the door.

* * *

As confusing as Dan’s confession was, an equal part of it made sense to Phil upon time to reflect. 

Dan had feelings for Phil. Feelings that weren’t exactly brotherly. As Phil watched the sunrise, turning the room a soft duckling yellow through the gauzy curtains, he contemplated why he didn’t feel anything other than relief. That same sense of “I’m feeling the wrong emotion” crept up on Phil. It seemed to be a running theme. When the aliens first invaded, Phil didn’t feel fear, only mild concern for his brother. When their father died, he felt numb. Now, when his brother confessed incestuous feelings and had even kissed him, all Phil felt was curiosity and relief.

Because the truth of the matter was that while Dan certainly didn’t feel the same way as Phil (who felt nothing but brotherly love), he didn’t, in fact, hate Phil. It seemed totally within Dan’s character to avoid Phil and push him away when Dan didn’t know how to process his emotions. Of course, there was also the slight chance that Dan had only just recently developed these feelings, but Phil found it unlikely. He thought of all the times that Dan had begun wildly blushing before pulling him into an argument. Of all the times he caught Dan staring, only to have the longing glance turn into a glare. The amount of relief that Phil felt that Dan didn’t actually hate him overshadowed any other negative feelings he might have had.

Of course, it did bother Phil a little that he himself didn’t feel any initial disgust, and made him question his own sanity. He replayed the kiss in his mind. Dan’s lips had been feather light, but they hadn’t been bad. It hadn’t made Phil’s chest tighten in disgust, as would have been the normal response, and it didn’t make him feel nothing, like kissing someone he didn't like. It was hard to tell what the kiss had made him feel. Phil figured that the only way to find out would be to kiss Dan again.

Nothing about the situation was simple, and Phil knew that if he decided to pursue this, it could lead to some places he didn’t want to go. Phil also knew that Dan was hurting and he was afraid and they were all each other had. If Phil just let this go, pretended it didn’t happen, and let Dan go on suffering in silence, eventually it would drive a wedge between them. This was the only way this path could lead if Phil didn’t do something.

So, as the older brother, Phil figured that if Dan needed to kiss and cuddle for a while, Phil could give that to him. He didn’t exactly feel the same way (or at least he was uncertain at the moment) but it didn’t disgust Phil enough to justify not at least trying it out. He knew that the alternative was worse than the latter. By the time the sun had fully risen, Phil squashed down any anxieties and fears he had about the whole situation.

He could let Dan pursue this, get whatever it was out of his system, and they could move on. It was the easiest route to take, the most selfless, and with Phil in control, nothing would get out of hand. Once the world went back to the normal, _they_ could go back to normal. Phil would make certain of it.

* * *

“You will have to knock down the damn door before I come out,” said Dan, muffled through the door. Phil sighed, throwing his head back in frustration and scrubbing his hands down his face. It had been at least ten minutes of cajoling, but Dan wouldn’t open up.

“Stop being a drama queen and let me in, okay? I would like to talk to you face-to-face without a door between us,” said Phil. On the other side of the door, Phil heard rustling, but when he tried the knob it still didn’t turn. He dropped his hand and sighed.

“No, I already know what you’re going to say,” came Dan’s voice. As per usual, he picked up that bratty intonation that made Phil want to rip his hair out. For a brief moment, he considered saying something rude about Dan’s kissing skills to rile him up enough to open the door,but figured that would be counterintuitive to his mission.

It was afternoon now and a touch chilly in the house. The electricity hadn’t come on all day, so Phil had skipped breakfast to be able to leave the fridge closed, trapping in the cold and buying them a day of produce. Outside, it was drizzly and grey and not at all sunny like the lovely morning. Before knocking on his brother’s door, Phil spent the morning moving about the house in a ghostlike state, contemplating what exactly he would say once Dan had woken up. Despite the fact he didn’t usually get anxious, Phil still felt a little awkward and nervous. After lingering outside his bedroom for well over an hour, Phil finally settled on the fact that it was going to take some work to get Daniel to emerge from his cave.

“Oh really? Why do I highly doubt that?” said Phil sarcastically, almost cheerily considering the circumstances. There was a shocked pause on the other side of the door, but Dan stubbornly refused to unlock the door. Once again, Phil sighed.

“I’m not leaving,” said Dan again “I’ve starting peeing out the window.”

“Ew, gross,” murmured Phil, rolling his eyes.

“Go away,” said Dan once again, to which Phil responded to by cheekily rapping his knuckles against the door. On the other side, he heard a groan.

“Could you budge off?” asked Daniel. Phil rapped his knuckles against the door again, this time doing a pattern.

“No, we obviously need to talk,” replied Phil.

“No, we don’t,” said Dan “Go the hell away.” Sighing, Phil quit knocking at the door and instead slid against the cool oak. He landed on the carpet with a not-so-graceful thump, and watched his colorful socks while he spoke. Tapping his toes together, Phil took out his nervous energy by drawing lines in the carpet with his thumb.

“Okay, fine, then I guess I’ll just say what I have to say through the damn door since you’re being so stubborn,” Phil took a deep breath, then went on with what he had planned “I’d like to kiss you again, if that’s cool.”

Phil fell backward as the door suddenly ripped open. When he looked up, his ice blue eyes met bedraggled brown. Dan looked down at him from hooded eyes.

“Very funny,” he sneered. Phil sat up and turned around. He let himself into the room before Dan could lock him out again.

“I’m not joking,” said Phil. He sat down on Dan’s bed, which was unmade and vaguely smelled of him. It wasn’t a good or bad smell, but aggressively Dan. Phil smoothed down the sheets and looked up at his little brother who stood against the opposite wall, squinting in assessment.

“That’s not funny,” repeated Dan. Phil met his eyes and smiled kindly.

“It’s not supposed to be,” said Phil “Look, I get that it’s weird—”

“Um, yeah,” Dan looked around like he was searching for hidden cameras, his eyes wide.

“… But I understand where you’re coming from. I don’t care if you have feelings for me, I—” Phil paused, considered his words, then continued “I liked the kiss.” It wasn’t entirely true, but it wasn’t entirely false either. Phil was apathetic to the kiss, but he did like Dan. Dan gave him a dubious look, and Phil held up his hands in surrender.

“So… You’re not disgusted by me?” asked Dan. Phil smiled again, continuously forgiving and kind.

“Of course I’m not,” replied Phil quietly. At this, Dan looked away and swallowed hard. For a moment, Phil worried he was going to start crying, but instead Dan looked at him with a hard set in his jaw.

“You’re not making fun of me?” he asked with desperation coloring his voice. 

“I’m not. It’s going to be okay,” said Phil. Dan nodded and examined the floor. Phil could almost see the gears turning in his brain, so he patted the spot beside him on the bed.

“Come here,” said Phil. For a moment, Dan hesitated, but then with a nervous quickness he joined Phil on the bed. A blush colored the apples of his cheeks, and he looked up at Phil, doe-like. Now it was Phil’s turn to be nervous, as he’d never seen his little brother like this before. Their eyes locked, and Phil could see that Dan’s pupils were blown up and his breathing pattern changed to more ragged. Dan was not only visibly nervous, but openly attracted to Phil for the first time. Seeing the effect he had on his little brother made Phil second guess his decision, but he hesitantly rested a hand on Dan’s, which only made his breathing quicker.

“So, um, I’ll lead the way on this. You know, being the older brother and all.” Phil bit his lip. Saying it aloud felt weird. 

“God, this is so fucked up,” breathed Dan. While his expression agreed with the sentiment-- wide, panicked eyes, a tense brow-- Dan's voice sat on the other side of the dichotomy, dipping a bit deeper, huskier even. Phil shrugged in an attempt to keep things light, but his heart was pounding at Dan's tone. 

“It is what it is. Here,” Phil awkwardly took Dan’s chin in his hand. Dan blinked and before their lips could meet, he let out a goofy giggle. Phil let go of his chin, face burning, but then saw that for the first time in what seemed like forever Dan was laughing, genuinely laughing, with his dimples showing and little snort ringing through. Sitting back, Phil joined him with a smile.

“I’m sorry,” chuckled Dan “The look on your face was just so concentrated.” Dan kept laughing while Phil made a mock-offended face.

“Hey! Don’t be mean to me for my pre-kissing skills,” exclaimed Phil. This only made Dan laugh harder, a wonderful release to the tension that had been lingering around the house for days. Phil's shoulders relaxed and a smile crept along his face. 

“ ‘Pre-Kissing Skills’—what does that even mean, you spork?” said Dan. At last, his laughing had died down, but the smile remained. Phil felt his heart grow with affection, seeing the happiness he had brought to his brother. God, to make Dan laugh, Phil would do just about anything.

“Sorry, I’m really not making fun of you. I’m just nervous, is all,” said Dan at last. Finally, the smile dropped off Dan’s face as he remembered the odd circumstances that brought him there, sitting on the bed, facing his older brother, body vibrating with fear and desire. Odd, odd circumstances they were, Dan felt a lightness now that he didn’t have to hide or bury his feelings anymore. He wondered, vaguely, if it were a delirium—had his secrets and desires become too much to bare? Had he just snapped?

Was this what the end of the world felt like?

“I know that,” said Phil. This time, instead of taking Dan’s chin or making a show of it in any way, he simply leaned foreword. Before Dan could respond, Phil was kissing him. At that moment, any thoughts, fears, or worries disappeared to the back of Dan’s mind like junk shoved into an unseen closet-- out of sight.

Instead, for a blissful moment, Dan could focus on the lovely feeling of being kissed. Truthfully, Dan had only kissed one other guy, in high school, and Phil had only kissed a handful of people in college. Still true to his word, Phil took the lead.

At first it was a simple meeting of lips, but Phil leaned foreword and went with his original plan to cup Dan’s face in his palm. Feeling bold, he used his other hand to pull Dan closer by the small of his back. Phil thought it was just going to be light, innocent kisses, as he figured that would be enough to appease Dan without going too far past the ‘platonic’ boundary. Likewise, to both Dan and Phil’s surprise, Phil was getting more into this than he expected. In that moment there wasn’t guilt, only spark and heat. It felt like kissing, as they both knew it, was redefined.

Dan heart thrummed like it had the night he had snuck into Phil’s room, only this time his mind wasn’t a clutter of fear, but was filled with one question—how far? How far was Dan allowed to take this? It was like all the wet dreams and fantasies came to life, and something inside Dan felt unlocked, making him want to push the envelope of an already delicate situation. He kissed back a little harder, allowed himself to nip at Phil’s lower lip, and wrapped his arms around his older brother’s body. As the heat between them grew, Dan's anxieties disappeared and he found himself falling hard into the wave of lust and wanton desire. 

Phil felt dizzy with it all. He couldn’t believe just how reactive Dan was and how his body moved beneath his touch. When Phil’s hand brushed the gap between Dan’s shirt and pajama pants, Dan’s skin turned to gooseflesh and he jumped. Phil wasn't one to care about things like virginity in a partner, but something about Dan's reactiveness brought on by inexperience ushered in a rush of dirty thoughts that were difficult to ignore. Dan kissed like a virgin. Even worse, he moaned into Phil's mouth like a virgin. It was driving Phil wild with unexpected, frightening need. 

Breaking the kiss, Dan laid back onto the bed and grabbed onto Phil’s arms, pulling him close. Phil complied and wordlessly, breathlessly, began to kiss his little brother again. Now as they laid on the bed, the spark between them was even more apparent with their bodies pressed together. Their ankles were crossed and both of their hearts were pounding wildly. Phil gripped Dan’s hip with one hand and balanced on the bed with the other. He felt Dan’s hip bone protruding in a way that, in some part of Phil’s brain, registered as worrying. Dan, on the other hand, tangled his hands up in Phil’s hair, too afraid to let them wander over the other’s body, still unsure of what the limits were. He didn’t bother being gentle and tugged with a small, breathy moan.

They were kissing, and kissing, and kissing, and time passed by without a thought. Finally, Phil pulled away, panting hard and looking confused. He sat up while Dan laid there, eyes squeezed shut as he willed his erection to go down. Phil examined him. Dan was panting too, face red, lips shiny-swollen from all the biting. In that moment, Phil realized, with a lot less clarity than before, that this plan was one that he was going to have to pursue with caution. Because Phil hadn’t expected the intense attraction between them, and he hadn’t expected to like it this much.

“Holy shit,” said Dan at last, letting a sigh escape as he finally began to cool down. He laughed as well, only this time it lacked humor and instead expressed wonder.

“Yeah, I know,” said Phil softly “ _Holy shit_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comment below what you think! I'm super close to catching up completely and I can't wait to start updating this fic again.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys we are almost caught up!!!! I cannot wait to keep writing this fic. 
> 
> Edits include changing up a little bit of the kissing dynamic to make things seem more clear and fixing awkward sentences. I forgot how much I liked the last little bit about giving insight to Dan's feelings, so I left that alone. I think Dan's motives and feelings were pretty clear in draft one, it's Phil's thoughts and feelings that I've needed to iron out in edits. 
> 
> Comment below if you are excited for me to start updating again!

Phil woke up to Dan kissing his neck. For a moment, Phil simply closed his eyes and hummed.

“Good morning,” said Dan softly against his skin. His breath smelled like mint. For a moment, Phil let himself feel happy. He let himself forget about the strange creatures that invaded earth, the years his parents made him feel like nothing, and the fact that the person his body was waking up for was his younger brother. No, Phil let himself forget those things because for a moment he just wanted to get lost in Dan.

Like last time, the kissing started out gentle, but that didn’t last long. This time the main difference was Dan pushed them along and as Phil tangled up his hands in Dan’s curly hair, Dan began to moan in his mouth, began to toe the boundaries by nudging his fingertips beneath the waistband of his brother’s boxers. Likewise, Phil stayed in control by gently pulling Dan’s hands away, but he didn’t bother to be gentle about the way he grabbed the other’s wrists. Unfortunately, this roughness only spurred Dan on more.

“Want more,” mumbled Dan as he broke the kiss. Phil didn’t have a moment to reply as Dan went back to the rough making out that was leaving both of them throbbing with desire. Neither even pretended to ignore their erections now, with Dan rutting up lewdly against his older brother’s leg. Phil released his wrists and placed a gentle hand on Dan’s hip, breaking the kiss.

“You know we can’t.” Phil put some space between them. The morning air felt cold between them and made the space seem wider. Glancing at his younger brother’s face, Phil could see that Dan was visibly pissed off and was biting his lip like a horny, petulant tease. Between his flushed cheeks and heaving chest, Dan was quite the sight to see and Phil had force himself to look away.

“We can do anything we want,” said Dan as he tried to bridge the gap between them “No one is here to stop us.” 

“I’m here to stop us,” replied Phil. He took the pause in conversation to scoot back and put even more space between the two. Dan’s needy look and husky voice and the spark between them while they kissed was causing Phil to slowly lose grasp on control that he, as the older sibling, desperately needed to navigate this situation. When he dared a look a Dan, he saw the predatory smirk on his face.

“Uh-huh,” Dan deadpanned.

Closing the gap, he was on Phil again, only this time he wasn’t kissing him. Instead Dan snuggled up, hot breath fanning across Phil's neck, his body teasing it’s way onto Phil’s lap. Not touching, but cajoling the other to beg for his touch. It was an innocent move disguised as affection. It was coy. Phil didn’t move as Dan teased to kiss him, lips hovering over the older's collarbone, and sneakily pressed their bodies back together. Phil was hard before, but now his cock was visibly throbbing in his boxers, and Dan couldn’t resist but to reach down to grab him.

Luckily, Phil had enough sense to grab his brother’s hand before things could go further. He sighed, leaned foreword, and rested his head against Dan’s shoulder. He felt dizzy. 

“We need to go take some cold showers,” Phil said a bit miserably “I want… We can’t…”

“Okay,” Dan relented. He took a deep breath, like Phil, and shook his head to clear his mind. They both separated. Now, Dan sat toward the foot of the bed, and Phil occupied the headboard atop the pillows. They risked a glance at each other.

“I… I really like this,” said Dan simply “But I won’t push you. I want you but… I’m not stupid. I know why you’re hesitant. Um, I just wanted you to know that if I make you uncomfortable—”

“That’s not why—The reason I’m saying ‘no’ is _not_ because I dislike what we’re doing. You aren’t pressuring me or pushing my consent or anything like that. I just need to— _We_ just need to watch ourselves. We’re brothers. This can’t get too out of hand,” Phil swallowed and the two kept looking at each other. It was an important conversation, Phil knew that, but it was also an uncomfortable one.

“I understand,” said Dan softly. He then brought his hands to his face and laid down on the bed with a large sigh. “This is so fucked. I keep oscillating between wanting you and feeling gross. I’m sorry I put this on us. I’m sorry about my stupid sick urges. I’m sorry I’m such an annoying prick. I’m sorry—”

“Stop apologizing! This isn’t just you. I’m the one who suggested it in the first place. Everything’s going to be okay,” said Phil. Despite the fact Phil felt unsure of the entire situation, he was sure of one thing: he needed Dan to be happy. Daring himself to move closer, Phil looped his arm around Dan’s shoulder and laid a benign kiss on his shoulder. The two turned to face each other on the bed.

“Just let me be in charge,” said Phil. He reached up and dared to play with his brother’s curls which caused a small smile to grow on Dan’s face. Dan closed his eyes in contentment.

“That weird big brother thing again,” murmured Dan half-heartedly.

“Yeah,” conceded Phil “Just let your big brother handle this.”

“This is so wrong,” replied Dan. He said it as a statement, not tinged with guilt, worry, or heat. It just was. Phil shrugged and kept at playing with his hair.

“We feel this way for a reason. Let’s get it out of our system and then we can just put this in the past, okay?” Even though he kept his eyes closed, Dan frowned. Phil was about to ask him what was wrong when Dan leaned foreword, pulling him in for another kiss.

* * *

Dan laid in bed that night while fighting the urge to crawl into Phil’s. It was the first night since admitting his feelings that Dan was forcing himself to hold back, to resist the urge to go to Phil. That push back from his true feelings was a comfortable space for Dan to exist in, because it was the place he occupied for years. That night, Dan let himself go back to the time before.

Everything hurt, but then again, everything always hurt for Dan. This time, though, it all hurt in a new way. Before there was guilt and longing, this dark hole that paralyzed Dan into days spent staring up at the ceiling. Dan knew it wasn’t just his weird incestuous desires for his brother—there was a lot more wrong, a lot more that Dan needed to work through. A small part of him knew that his feelings for his parents and his feelings for Phil overlapped and created this need inside of him to be held, but he didn’t like to link the two, naturally. He didn’t want to think about how his messed up brain created messed up desires because he was a messed up guy.

Likewise, the new hurt was much more manic. Dan felt like he was spinning on dizzying circles of a carousel, felt like his mind moved faster than his thoughts could process, and that the world, as he knew it, was crumbling to pieces. In a way, it was. For now, they had lost society, more likely than not in a permanent way. They lost their dad. Soon enough, Phil would get tired of Dan, and then Dan would lose the only person he ever truly cared about. Then, Dan assumed, it would be at that point he would lose his mind.

A part of Dan wanted to savor these moments of happiness for Phil. He also wanted to get as much as he could out of it before everything inevitably fell apart. Dan hated to admit it, but he wanted all of Phil, wanted to be burned badly from this illicit relationship before it finally came to an end. It made the need in Dan hurt more than ever before. It made everything so much more raw.

Likewise, in the dark that night, Dan smiled to himself. In what was probably the final spark of his fire before everything was extinguished, Dan was consumed with the happiness brighter than he’d felt in a long time.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was one of the two chapters I wanted to do a major overhaul on. I did a lot of edits to explain further Phil's feelings (I neglected him a lot in these chapters I feel) and to add a bit more tension to these scenes. Likewise, I also wanted to make it clear in my edits and the dialogue that despite the fact there is tension and a bit of warring feelings in both characters, they are also clearly consenting to what is coming in the next chapter. I don't really fuck with dub-con. I hope I struck that balance well, but we will see. 
> 
> Obviously I would like to take this A/N to reiterate I don't support incest irl, obviously, and also to warn the audience it's about to get pretty smutty from here on out. No joke, I've got several chapters of smut planned. Also bare in mind this is my first time writing smut, so tips and constructive criticism is appreciated (please keep it constructive though-- I will cry if you're mean lol). 
> 
> Anyway, enjoy the 2AM update. I couldn't sleep. Editing sometimes helps.

A few days later, Dan emerged from his bedroom to find Phil downstairs, a clipboard in hand. The younger raised a curious eyebrow.

“Food storage,” said Phil. He tipped the clipboard up toward Dan, but didn’t take his eyes off the rows of numbers. “I’m trying to make sure we aren’t eating too much, too fast.”

“Wow, that’s proactive, I suppose” Dan reached for the cereal and poured a handful into a bowl. He didn’t bother looking for milk and instead ate the cereal dry.

“Yeah well… The internet is gone,” Phil paused “My phone won’t connect to 3G and my pages won’t refresh.” Dan’s chewing slowed down.

“That’s… not good,” he said slowly. Phil nodded and his eyebrows scrunched together. Dan shoved more cereal in his mouth. Since he and Phil started all the making out, his mind hadn’t really been on the aliens, truthfully. Dan felt a little silly. It wasn't a good time to act like a horny teenager... yet there was more to it than that. Strangely enough, Dan spent most of his time acclimating to his newfound happiness.

Dan woke up each day and instead of worrying about the judgement of his parents, the pressures of society, or his suppressed feelings for his brother, Dan instead felt… free. There was no world to make meaning for and no need to avoid his brother. For the first time in his life, Dan felt like he could define his life to an extent. Maybe in a way, it was an existential freedom. Of course, that was counterintuitive. Dan couldn't leave the house to see a movie, much less get groceries, without worrying about a meat puppet alien chopping him to bits with an axe. Humanity, as far as the brothers knew, was as trapped as it could ever be, yet Dan felt a freedom in it all. It was odd. Of course Dan missed things like the internet and video games and a feeling of safety walking down the street, but all in all life was good. Life moved slower without the rest of society happening all at once. Dan realized that maybe part of his stress before stemmed from the fast pace everything in human society seemed to move at. Or maybe that was just what Dan told himself because it seemed a lot more wise and made a lot more sense than happiness coming from near-to anarchy. Unfortunately, even with all that Dan still had depression, and his meds were running scarily low, but when it came to overall wellness Dan finally felt like a large weight had been lifted off his shoulders. It probably didn't bode well for Dan that he found existential freedom only after snogging his brother and never leaving the house. 

The days bled together, enough so that Dan wasn’t sure what day of the week it was, especially since his phone had since stopped updating. Each morning Dan woke up with the sunrise, stretched, and headed downstairs to eat whatever rations Phil would allow. Sometimes Dan would read, other times he’d pull out old gaming consoles that run on batteries. Phil often set projects for him: barricading the doors, making stores of bottled water, scanning the area for binoculars to keep look out. By noon, Dan usually found his way on the roof. It felt a little scary to just sit in the backyard, with worry always pricking in the back of his mind about the creatures appearing again, but Dan now felt the energy to spend time outside and a need get some sunlight, so the best solution was to hang out on the roof for a few hours each day. The tree in the backyard was turning yellow and a few times Dan childishly stuffed leaves in his pocket to bring back to show his older brother. Likewise, by the time he got inside, Dan felt too embarrassed for being so sentimental about trees. For about two hours a day, Dan worked out. He liked to lift old weights from the basement that were now kept upstairs. After a shower and whatever dinner Phil prepared, Dan would snuggle up in his older brother’s bed at sunset, and they would kiss until they were too tired to keep at it. They fell asleep easily, and early compared to Dan’s old sleep schedule, but since the power no longer turned on anymore, it didn’t make much sense to waste precious candles just to hang around at night.

However, it was troubling that the electricity no longer worked and the internet was down. Cell phone towers also went down. When it came to home comforts, all they really had left was running water. Dan hadn’t seen another person since the attacks—the remaining neighbors across the street had vacated in the night at some point. Certain things were becoming more difficult. One day it got particularly cold, so Phil debated starting a campfire in the back yard, but worried the smoke would attract the creatures. Another day they realized that because the trash service didn’t, obviously, pick up their garbage, and the house was beginning to stink, so one of Dan’s daily tasks was to bury the rotten garbage. They prayed that the water would keep running, although Phil made sure to fill out every tub, pan, and water bottle they could find.

“So no internet means we don’t know what’s going on with the spicy boys in the sky,” said Dan flatly. Phil couldn’t help but let a smile escape, but he wrangled it in quickly.

“Yeah,” said Phil “And knowing what’s going on will keep us safe, so…” He let the statement hang. Dan took that moment of silence to have another bite of cereal, which he washed down with tap water.

“Let’s give it a few days,” said Dan softly. Phil simply nodded and kept looking at his clipboard. After Dan finished up his cereal, he gave a long sigh and put the bowl back in the cupboard after a rinse.

“Any projects for today?” asked Dan. Phil shook his head and set down the clipboard.

“Not today. Although—never mind, it’s stupid,” said Phil. With his cataloging finished, Phil took a seat at the breakfast nook, wringing his hands together before finally settling them in front of him. He picked up the salt shaker and started twirling it nervously.

“I like stupid,” replied Dan. Feeling warmed at the sight of his brother, Dan sidled over to the other side of the breakfast nook and settled himself onto Phil’s lap. Even though Dan was significantly larger, he still fit into Phil’s lap nicely. Phil released the salt shaker, let his hands hang for a second, then, with a bob of his Adam’s apple, placed his palms on Dan’s waist. Dan put an arm on either side of Phil’s head and looked down at him through his lashes. Without the darkness of night shrouding them, Phil felt a new thrill being so close to his little brother.

Dan did this sometime-- came onto Phil without warning. It was an unspoken rule between them that they didn't make out during the day. It was a rule Phil put in place. As the younger brother, Dan liked to push that boundary, if nothing than out of a desire to be a brat. Phil wouldn't admit outright that he liked it when Dan pushed, to either himself or his younger sibling, but he also never stopped Dan when he initiated affection in the broad light of day. It definitely ruffled Phil, though, and mixed up his thoughts a bit so he became a stuttering mess. That was likely why Dan did it. 

“I-I don’t know,” said Phil “I just thought… Well, I usually do all the cooking. You’ll need to learn to cook for yourself some day, so—”

“Why would I need to do that?” squeaked Dan. His voice touched a bit higher than usual, a little shrill with surprise. Phil squeezed Dan’s waist, leaned foreword, and then changed his mind, leaning back. He released his hold on Dan's waist and gave a patient side-smile. 

“Not like that, I’m here,” said Phil softly “I just—I want to teach you stuff, give you guidance like an older sibling is supposed to. It would be fun, I think. But it’s kind of stupid so—”

“No I-I’d like to learn how to cook,” said Dan softly. It seemed Phil's reassurance calmed him. “What did you have in mind?”

* * *

“Where did you learn to make this?” asked Dan. Phil lit the burner with a match, then flicked out the flame with his wrist. It smelled vaguely of sulfur in the wake.

“Uni,” he replied simply “It’s cheap. That’s why we can make this with just canned goods.” Dan nodded. Phil assigned him the task of draining the canned corn, spreading it out on a baking sheet, and covering it with a touch of olive oil. It was easy enough. Meanwhile, Phil sautéed a teaspoon of jarred garlic in the bottom of a saucepan. Due to the lack of electricity, some of their cooking methods had to be adjusted (see: no fresh butter to cook in), but overall Phil assumed it would taste similar if not the same to the cheap dish he used to make back in the college dorms.

“How much cumin?” asked Dan, holding up the shaker with his hand. Phil squinted before reaching over to take the spice himself. He began to shake the slightest amount onto the corn, just coating it in a thin layer of brown dust. Dan snorted.

“You’re such a control freak,” he observed. Phil shrugged and finished up spicing the vegetable. He then tossed the matches to Dan, who took a turn at lighting the oven.

“A little bit,” admitted Phil with a shrug “Is that bad?”

Dan took a moment to ponder the question and pushed the baking sheet into the warming over. He then reached up on his tip-toes to fish the old twist-timer out of the cupboard. It was shaped like an egg and covered in dust due to the fact that since the advent of smartphones his parents had no need to use an old fashioned timer. At this point, Dan’s phone died and Phil’s was turned “off” to conserve battery in case of an emergency. It was weird to be back to a world with no cell phones. It gave Dan nostalgia for his childhood in the 90’s.

“I mean, it can be annoying. But I think you’re a good leader, so it’s okay,” admitted Dan. Phil smiled, turned down the heat on the burner, and took a moment to start chopping up the canned potatoes into smaller, bite-sized pieces. He noticed Dan standing idly by the stove and offered him the knife.

“Make sure you dice the potatoes. Do you know what dicing means?” asked Phil as Dan scooted over to take on the chopping. Dan mugged at him, making a face that indicated he found Phil’s question absolutely ridiculous.

“No duh,” mocked Dan “I’m a bad cook, not an idiot.”

“Hey, I’m just checking. Gosh, you always have such attitude, brat,” Phil clucked his tongue playfully. Dan stuck his tongue out, which only proved Phil’s point, and began slicing into the softened potatoes, trying his best to emulate Phil’s precise cuts. Meanwhile, Phil started measuring out vegetable stock. Usually, he would use chicken stock, but due to the circumstances they were subject to whatever was on hand in the pantry.

“So if it wasn’t the apocalypse, what would you actually be teaching me to cook right now? I know this is bad, but I pretty much have avoided every meal you’ve cooked since you moved back in,” said Dan. Phil looked over curiously at his little brother while not hiding his obvious surprise.

“I mean, I like to cook because it’s calming, but I’m not really great at it,” admitted Phil. Dan hummed softly and a comfortable silence came over them for a moment as they both worked on their respective tasks. Phil thought to himself how wonderful it all was, how strangely fantastic doing something as simple as cooking soup with his brother could be. A month ago, Dan hated Phil, or least acted like he did. Phil would never have imagined the circumstances it would take to bring the two together. Unlike Dan, Phil couldn’t completely ignore the world around them, and sometimes, with his lips still swollen from kissing, Phil would lie awake with Dan in his arms worrying about what the future held with these strange creatures still looming over them. There was more than just the aliens, of course. Phil didn’t know where their relationship was going, and he worried, as the more responsible of the two, that they were headed for disaster. It was less than a week after their first time making out, and already Phil felt like something between them was about to give. Phil wasn't sure where the tension came from, but he was starting to believe it was present before the invasion, before they were forced together. Dan's anger with him and Phil's desperate need for affection always played at odds. Now, of course, it was the opposite. Phil wanted Dan. That was the same. The change was that Dan wanted Phil back, and now it was Phil's turn to keep a safe distance between them. It was another responsibility added to his growing list. While Dan spent days seemingly carefree, Phil felt constantly on edge, and all he could do was turn their domestic abode into a safehouse. He worried about the aliens, he worried about running out of supplies, and he worried that he would do something wrong and Dan would hate him again. In the midst of that worry, Phil depended on moments like this, moments where he could simply escape the mounting anxiety. Phil wasn't skilled in much, but he always had a knack for living in the moment, if need be. 

In that moment, cooking soup with his little brother, Phil felt calm.

They talked for a little longer about the books they were reading, and Dan chatted excitedly about the tree changing color in the back yard. As they were adding the roasted corn to the soup mix, Phil said something that made Dan laugh, and his dimple appeared at the corner of his cheek. Phil didn’t hold back from leaning over and kissing that exact dimple, which only made Dan giggle harder.

By the time they were almost done with the soup, Phil positioned himself behind his little brother and wrapped both arms around his waist, lowering his chin to his shoulder. He closed his eyes and allowed himself to enjoy the affection. 

“Hey,” he said softly. Dan hummed in response, stirring at their soup. “This was actually really fun. I had a good time today, doing this.” Dan was quiet for a moment and Phil opened his eyes.

“Yeah,” said Dan softly “It sort of felt like a date.”

An awkward pause.

“Dan…” warned Phil. Slowly, Phil released his grasp from around Dan’s waist, and Dan stared down at simmering pot to avoid eye contact. The comment blindsided Phil, who felt, oddly, like the room was tilting a little bit. How was he supposed to respond to that? The kissing and affection was supposed to be a byproduct of desire. It wasn’t supposed to make them more than brothers. The worst part was Phil wasn’t sure what else to say, for a variety of reasons. First and foremost, Phil didn’t want to ruin whatever precarious happiness and peace they had built for themselves in that moment. On top of that, the comment worried Phil more than it grossed him out—worried him because he wasn’t sure what this meant about Dan’s feelings. On top of that, a teeny, tiny part of Phil agreed, but his logical side quickly ruled that out. They were allowed to love each other as brothers, and they were allowed to get this weird sexual tension out of their systems while the world was gone to hell, but there were lines they just couldn’t cross without permanently affecting their relationship…

“Sorry,” murmured Dan, which only served to make Phil feel immediately guilty.

“It’s okay. I know it can get confusing,” replied Phil. Almost as a peace treaty, he curled himself back around his brother, only this time resting his head to the side, staring at the kitchen tiles below. Through the fabric of Dan’s sweater, Phil could hear and feel his younger brother’s wild heartbeat.

“I’m really sorry,” muttered Dan again. His voice sounded a bit rougher, so Phil started to stroke his sides gently.

“It’s okay. _I’m_ sorry. I didn’t mean to upset you,” Phil kept his eyes focused on the kitchen tiles. Dan slowly reached foreword, flicked off the heat on the stock, then twisted around to face Phil, his bottom against the counter.

“I’m not hungry,” he said. Phil didn’t bother putting space between them. He stood close to Dan and studied his face, which was decidedly more closed off and avoiding eye contact. Every muscle on Dan seemed to be tense like he was ready to run away at a moment’s notice. Guilt flew around wildly in Phil’s chest, scraping it’s wings against his ribcage, so he stepped foreword and kissed Dan gently on the mouth. It was a peace treaty of a kiss. 

Dan kissed back, catching Phil off guard by responding with a vigor that was both needy and desperate. The originally gentle kiss that was meant to comfort turned to Dan grabbing roughly at Phil’s hair and moaning into his mouth. Of course, Phil’s body responded to this, because there was a list of things that turned Phil on, and neediness was up there. Still, the nagging feeling in the back of Phil’s mind brought him to his senses.

“Is something wrong?” Phil asked as soon he was able to get air. Dan took a step toward him, but Phil responded in turn with a step back. Upon closer examination of his face, Dan still avoided eye contact. It was obvious he was upset. Phil wasn’t sure to say about all of this. He loved Dan, but he also knew that the situation between them was precarious.

“Let’s go to bed early. Sleep off this bad mood,” suggested Phil. It was the first thing that popped into his head.

“It’s not even mid-afternoon,” replied Dan stubbornly. A flood of relief overtook Phil when he heard his brother’s usual sassy tone. Angry Dan was manageable, normal even.

“A nap then. Neither of us are hungry right now anyway. It’ll save quite nice,” replied Phil. Despite the fact Dan had yet to look him head on, he nodded, and Phil was able to lead his little brother upstairs and into the bedroom. Brazenly, Phil shucked off his shirt and jeans, leaving on only boxer shorts. It wasn’t like Phil didn’t sleep in the same attire nearly every night (Christmas pajamas damned a long time ago), but in the soft light of the afternoon it all seemed more intimate. His bedroom had blackout curtains, but not good ones. Light still came into the room from the cracks between the curtains and illuminated the two men, who now watched each other with an excited curiosity. Dan pulled off his pants, then his shirt with a little hesitation, and quickly pulled himself under the green and blue duvet. Phil joined him.

They curled into each other and fumbled a little as they tangled up their arms in legs in a gesture that had become second nature. Phil met Dan’s eyes then, and for a moment they watched each other, each completely uncertain about what the other was thinking.

“Do you want to talk?” asked Phil softly. Dan closed his eyes and shook his head. Phil took this as a moment to pull his younger brother closer, then proceeded to bury his face into the crook of Dan’s neck. Dan smelled like his bedsheets and autumn air. They both sighed in contentment to be wrapped in each other’s embrace. It felt odd, doing this in the light of day, when so much of their bedtime touching occurred strictly during the shade of night.

Neither felt truly tired. In fact, between the smell of Phil, his touch, and just their general proximity, Dan felt his body reacting. A delicious curl ran up through his abdomen, and without even being touched Dan began to feel himself get hard. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried to will it away. It wasn’t like Dan hadn’t gotten hard in front of Phil before (in fact, it happened just about every night, like Dan was some kind of reactive teenager or something), but after the incredibly awkward conversation they just had, along with Dan’s royal romantic fuck up, all Dan wanted to do was get lost in Phil’s embrace with no other distractions.

It wasn’t like Dan actually believed they were in some kind of fucked up romantic relationship, but to have Phil reject him so outright still stung. Dan knew Phil loved him like a brother; hell, Dan loved Phil like a brother, he just also happened to have other not-so-brotherly feelings mixed up in there as well. Dan’s fantasies of Phil never involved candle-lit dinners or proposals or any of that crap—just physical stuff. They were on the same page in that sense. Likewise, that day Phil was acting charming, and sweet, and affectionate, and for a moment, Dan let himself entertain the idea. It was silly, Dan knew that, but to an extent he also knew that he could very well be developing a crush on his own brother. He told himself it would go away after a while, and in the meantime, there wouldn’t be any harm in fooling around.

It was decided. Dan pulled away from Phil’s hug to kiss him roughly. If Dan couldn’t get lost in a romantic connection, he very well could get lost in something else.

They kissed. Then they kissed some more. And some more. Dan slipped his tongue into Phil’s mouth, then pulled back to nip his lower lip. After a few nights of practice under his belt, Dan knew what kind of things got his older brother going. For one, Phil liked it rough, which surprised Dan because usually Phil was always so gentle in everything. Dan reached down and dug his finger nails into Phil’s hips, then moaned into his mouth softly. Phil always reacted when Dan was vocal, particularly to high pitched noises, to gentle little gasps, to submissive words. It wasn’t long until Phil’s erection also throbbed visibly beneath his boxers. It was getting warm. Phil kicked the covers off, then positioned himself atop Daniel. Dan smirked into the next kiss. In a very short time, Dan had already learned all the tricks to get Phil to match his own arousal; Dan knew exactly how to level the playing field.

With Dan beneath him and the heat of the duvet gone, Phil had a moment of clarity before going back to snogging his own brother. He knew Dan was probably still upset and was likely just ignoring his feelings in favor of getting what he wanted. And Phil worried, like always, that it was his fault Dan was upset, that he'd done something wrong. Likewise, Phil couldn’t help but like where this was going. For a moment, Phil allowed himself to loosen his tight reins a little bit, for both his sake and his brother's. It was obvious that Dan wanted this; he reacted to each touch Phil gave him, each little caress or squeeze with the utmost enthusiasm. In no way did Phil feel like he was taking advantage of Dan, or vice versa, even if there were emotional matters they would need to discuss eventually. For a moment, both boys let themselves go to what they wanted, and allowed themselves to get caught up in the moment with each other.

“Fuck,” gasped Dan as Phil began sucking at his neck. The heat between them surged as their erections were now pressed together with only the thin layers of underwear separating them. Pain bloomed where Phil gave Dan a hickey, but it also sent prickles of goosebumps down his arm, and Dan started moaning lewdly, which only egged Phil on.

“Fuck Phil, I want you to do so many dirty things to me,” mumbled Dan. It wasn’t the first time he’d gotten chatty while they were messing around. Truthfully, Dan wasn’t even thinking about what he was saying, and he couldn’t imagine how much worse it would be if Phil actually let them do more than just make out and caress each other.

“Yeah, like what?” mumbled Phil into Dan’s neck. That was a first. Usually, Phil just ignored him. Likewise, Dan didn’t hesitate, especially when Phil resumed nibbling and sucking at his neck.

“I want your cock, fuck, I want it inside me. Or at least your hands, your fingers. Would be so much better than my own, ah!” Dan gasped when Phil nipped at a particularly sensitive spot.

“You finger yourself?” asked Phil lightly. For a moment, Phil’s voice almost sounded normal, surprised even, but it still had a deeper intonation than what was typical. A blush spread up Dan’s face when Phil pulled back to look at him, blue eyes excited, dilated, and amused.

“Sometimes after you go to sleep. There’s lube in the bedside table,” admitted Dan. 

“You slutty thing,” chided Phil. The words came out of his mouth automatically, and both brothers blushed deeply at the comment. It was probably the most filthy thing Phil had ever said while they fooled around. Dan felt like he was going to cum right then and there just from the sound of Phil’s voice, the way it deepened with lust, the way it took on a commanding tone that made Dan’s stomach ache with arousal.

“I—Would you want to-to try?” asked Dan. He immediately squeezed his eyes shut in preparation for the rejection that was surely to come. Dan was sure he’d really done it this time and had finally pushed it too far.

“Yeah,” replied Phil. Dan’s eyes popped open. They both watched each other nervously now, almost warily. The air between them felt clouded with lust and anxiety. 

“Um, I mean, if it’s okay—we could try it and see, I guess,” replied Phil awkwardly. He sat back on his heels and the moment was broken, although their erections still strained in their underwear. Dan tried to swallow, but his throat was dry.

“I—I mean yeah, but are you sure? I thought you said we could only go so far…” Dan couldn’t believe the words coming out of his own mouth. He should have been jumping at the opportunity! Dan wanted so, so badly for Phil to ignore him, push him down and grab his cock before Dan could say anything else stupid. Likewise, Phil, ever the big brother, considered for a moment before leaning over to rummage in the bedside table. Going into the bed, he'd allowed himself, no, _promised_ himself that he wouldn't overthink everything. It wasn't fair to either of them. If Dan wanted this as badly as Phil wanted this, there was no reason they shouldn't, Phil reasoned. 

“I mean, this isn’t that far. It’s not like oral sex or anything intimate like that. We could try it out,” explained Phil. His voice held onto whatever shred of collection he had left, carefully considering each word and breaking down the situation like it were a math problem.

“But I only want to do it if you are 100 percent certain and not only certain, but enthusiastic,” replied Phil sternly. In that moment, he retrieved the slim bottle of unmarked lube stuffed in the very back of the drawer underneath a pile of old magazines. It was quite sneakily hidden and if it weren’t so ludicrous, Phil would have been impressed.

“I’m enthusiastic!” Dan said quickly. So quickly, in fact, that Phil couldn’t help but laugh. It broke the tension just a bit, so Dan laughed too. It was nice to laugh, it seemed to bring both boys back to reality, and the uncomfortable worry between them seemed to melt away. After their giggling died down, both brothers looked at each other with affection, and suddenly, everything felt fun again. This was exactly the kind of thing they set out to do. 

After a beat of silence passed, Dan curled up onto Phil’s lap, straddling his older brother back against the pillow. Biting his lip, Phil’s heart began to slam into his breastbone as Dan appraised him. The mood shifted from one of nervous confusion back to whatever heat consumed them before.

“Alright then,” breathed Phil as he leaned back into the pillow “I guess we ought to give this a shot then.”


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaaaand we are caught up. 
> 
> Bit of a TW that with the edits this might read a little bit dubcon for some audiences. That wasn't my intention, but this is an angst fic, so I wanted to make this scene in-line with my goals for the plot. I tried my best to keep things reading as consensual as possible, but for those of you who are sensitive to that kind of thing I figured you might want to be warned. 
> 
> Edits include a lot of additions about feelings, a major overhaul on the dialogue so it didn't read like a poorly acted porn scene, and a complete edit on Phi's decision at the end of the chapter. I hope it reads better now, please leave feedback in the comments, I really do take it seriously.

Dan’s mind looped on repeat as Phil kissed him: all he could think was _holy shit, holy shit, holy shit_. He didn’t know exactly what Phil’s plan was, but if the bottle of lube in his hand was any indication, Dan knew to be excited. They hadn’t gone past kissing and the occasional over-the-clothes touching at this point, as Phil always put the brakes on whenever Dan pushed for more. Part of Dan was thrilled they were going foreword, but another part of him was surprised. Did this mean Phil had felt the same way all along? Or was it just now that he was realizing there was sexual tension between them? Dan felt a bit of relief because this was what he wanted all along, and even better, that want was mutual. 

Dan’s body thrummed with excitement as he watched Phil flip up the cap on the bottle of cherry lube. Their eyes met as Phil poured a generous dollop onto his fingers. The air between them seemed charged, palpable enough that Phil felt it necessary to give a kind grin, his eyes softening a little as he watched Dan’s chest heave with excitement. He paused in his ministrations for a chaste kiss. It was such a gentle, Phil-like thing to do. His attention to others and need to make everyone around him feel comfortable was something Dan found incredibly sweet and attractive. When he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes flicked over Dan's face, searching for any sign of discomfort. 

“Is it okay if I…” Phil reached behind Dan, pulling at the band of his boxers experimentally. Dan nodded, at a loss for words, and sat up a little higher to pull off his underwear in one swing. He settled back on Phil’s lap with his body shaking in anticipation.

“I’ve never done anything like this before,” admitted Dan. His voice sounded dry and scraped like he was getting a sore throat. He swallowed to compensate.

“Do you want to st—” 

“No!” exclaimed Dan. “Please? I really want to do this.” Again, Phil couldn’t help but smile fondly.

“So enthusiastic,” praised Phil. He’d originally meant it to be playful, but lust colored voice and brought it down an octave. Dan whimpered pathetically. A blush was beginning to run down his neck from desire and in the back of Phil’s mind, he observed that Dan had never been prettier. 

“Yes, come on Phil, please,” begged Dan.

“God, I can't believe we are doing this,” murmured Phil in wonder. Somewhere in his mind he knew he should feel some kind of negative emotion. Guilt? Not there. Worry? Maybe a little, but no more than usual. Fear? Frankly, the aliens outside the door were way more terrifying than Phil's sweet little brother. In that moment, Phil was shocked that all he felt was excitement and affection for Dan. A weird part of him felt unlocked. He was happy to be Dan's first whatever-they-were-doing and felt certain he could take care of his little brother. Adding to that, the fact it was so _wrong_ , the fact they were siblings, made the encounter feel all the more charged. Phil hadn’t exactly been with a lot of people, but unlike Dan, he had at least been with a few. Never before had anyone turned him on so wildly. The way Dan looked at him with such desperation and neediness sent blood rushing to Phil’s lower half. Dan’s tiny dick was throbbing visibly against his soft tummy and was so small Phil could fit the entire thing in his fist. With the hand that wasn’t reaching around, Phil grabbed Dan’s cock and began stroking it gently. Dan’s eyes fluttered closed and he let out a quiet moan.

“Never had anyone touch me before,” whimpered Dan. Phil hummed and tightened his grip. The sight of Dan’s erection swallowed up by his hand only served to make Phil harder with precum now staining the outside of his boxers. He licked his lips.

“Relax,” cooed Phil. He scooted back a bit, reaching over to get purchase on Dan’s neck, which he kissed in time to his strokes. Carefully, Phil pushed at the tight ring of Dan’s virgin ass with his lubed up fingers. It was obvious Dan was nervous or excited or both, so Phil continued his gentle ministrations. Dan soon relaxed into the pleasure and Phil was able to push one, then two fingers in.

“Good boy,” mumbled Phil. The words surprised both of them and seemed to come out of Phil's mouth on accident. Atop his lap, Dan was a moaning, babbling mess.

“Oh God,” groaned Dan as Phil flicked his wrist, bumping the head of his small cock “This is so—I’m so—you’re so— mm please don’t stop, feels so good.”

“Holy shit,” groaned Phil. He leaned foreword, rested his head against Dan's shoulder, and pushed deeper. “That’s so fucking wrong.” The words were true but didn't seem to ruffle either of them. If anything, it spurred Dan on, and he tightened around Phil's probing fingers. 

“Good though,” moaned Dan. When Phil looked up, he found Dan’s eyes squeezed shut in pleasure, sweat beginning to form around his hairline. He looked wrecked.

“Is this okay?” asked Phil. Despite the fact they were both enjoying themselves, Phil was beginning to have a bit of clarity on the situation. He wanted to check in, to make sure Dan didn't feel uncomfortable, because what they were doing was beyond anything Phil imagined they were ever going to do. Dan’s reply was another moan as Phil began to push in a third finger. It burned, of course, but it was a good burn. Dan’s entire body seemed to react and he rutted into Phil’s hand wantonly.

“Yes,” muttered Dan, but before he could keep speaking, his voice pitched up in a squeak as Phil hit his prostate “Holy—yes, fuck, right there! _Please, please, please_ \--”

“I’ve got you, fuck.” Phil’s heart slammed against his chest as he sped up both with pumping Dan’s cock and his ass. Above him, Dan rutted and moaned, his hands finding purchase on Phil’s shoulders, nails digging in. Seeing Dan like this was so hot, but the longer it went on, Phil began to feel a pit of dread in his stomach. Phil loved Dan, he didn't want this to mess them up, but then again, with the point they were at now, there really was no going back. Phil's mind was still clouded with lust, but his heart constricted and his stomach felt like a battle field. He kissed Dan's neck to feel a bit more connected and Dan replied with a moan that could only be categorized as slutty, causing Phil's erection to throb miserably in his boxers. Phil groaned, squeezed Dan's cock, and tried his best to lose himself in the feeling between them, no matter how confusing. 

“I’m going to—”

“Go ahead, I'm here, you can." 

It hadn't been very long, but then again Dan was a virgin. Phil's heart pounded as Dan got closer. He watched as the younger's eyes screwed shut in concentration, the way the bucking of his hips became a bit more erratic, and his panting sped up as he chased the feeling causing his cock to throb more severely in Phil's hand. With a girlish whimper, Dan’s cock began spilling seed onto Phil’s tightened fist. He came hard, jerking his hips foreword pathetically as his ass tightened like a vice around Phil’s fingers which, truthfully, Phil wished was his cock.

“Holy shit,” muttered Dan. His body shivered again in aftershock and his panted like he’d just ran a marathon. Slowly, Phil pulled out his fingers. When he let go of Dan’s cock his hand hovered for a moment above them, unsure what to do, then he ended up wiping the cum on the bed sheets despite the fact it was a little gross. Dan flopped beside him in the bed and they both stared up the ceiling in shock.

Unlike Dan, Phil wasn’t sated, so it took a few moments of him sorting through his lingering lust to come back to reality. When it finally set in, Phil began to panic.

“Fuck, what did we just do?!” exclaimed Phil, sitting up suddenly. Like a wave, all the anxieties that begun flaring up while they were in the midst of the act hit Phil all at once. He knew, certainly, he'd fucked up. Phil was supposed to be in charge. He was the older brother. The responsible one. Yet he gave into these feelings he didn't even know he was capable of for his little brother and proceeded to mess everything up. Sure, Dan seemed into it now, but what would happen when things went back to normal? When they went back to being just brothers? This was wrong, this was so so wrong, and it was all Phil's fault for taking advantage of Dan. 

Crossing the room, Phil yanked on his shirt as he suddenly felt exposed. In the bed, Dan sat up slowly, and pulled a blanket over his lower half. He watched as Phil began pacing the room in worry, running a hand through his sweaty hair and nearly tripping over himself. Dan looked down as he tried to process what just occurred. A minute ago, Phil had given Dan the most mind blowing orgasm of his life, and Dan was nothing but happy about it. Then less than a second later, Dan sat alone on the bed, covered with hickeys and body still not dried of sweat while Phil shook his head in denial.

“What? It’s not like we had sex or anything,” said Dan. Phil's mouth dropped open as he stared at Dan in shock. 

“ Are you serious? I don’t think you understand. I just—We just—God I can’t even say it!” Phil grabbed at his hair “It wasn’t supposed to go this far!” Dan pulled the sheets up even higher in an attempt to hide the hickeys blooming purple across his neck. He looked up owlishly at Phil who refused to meet his gaze.

“Oh,” Dan whispered “I thought it was worth it. I’m-I’m sorry.” Phil paused in his pacing and turned to face Dan, who, embarrassingly enough, was on the edge of tears. As if Phil hadn’t felt guilty enough, Dan bit his lip and tried to hold back from crying. Sighing, Phil climbed back into bed, pulled the sheets away, and enveloped Dan into hug.

“No, I’m sorry. This is all my fault. I’m the oldest, I’m supposed to take care of you, not the other way around,” whispered Phil. He held Dan against him, felt his heartbeat, the warmth of his skin. Phil bowed his head and sighed into Dan’s neck. It was warm and comforting.

“I thought that _was_ you taking care of me,” said Dan, a touch of sarcasm in his voice. 

“Dan, we can’t do that ever again,” warned Phil. They broke apart as Dan pulled away. Phil examined his face and found no defeat or sadness left, but instead a pouty, bratty anger.

“Why the hell not? We’re consenting adults. We had fun. Not to mention there’s nothing else to do with the internet gone,” countered Dan. 

“Do you not understand we are literally biological brothers? When the world goes back to normal, so will we. Do you really think we could keep this up? People would notice!” replied Phil. Dan scooted back and glared at him.

“See, that’s where you’re wrong. I don’t think the world is going back to normal,” Dan paused for a moment, considering “And besides, even if it did, it’s not like my feelings for you are going to go away!”

“What do you mean your feelings for me?” asked Phil. At this, Dan colored, then he quickly stepped out of bed to yank on his underwear angrily and cross to the other side of the room. Outside, it was heading into twilight, and the light streamed into the bedroom dreary and grey.

“Just forget it!” said Dan, turning to face away from him. “God, I didn’t realize fooling around was that absolutely _disgusting_ for you. You know, you didn’t have to jerk me off. I could have handled it myself.” Phil groaned in anger and grabbed at his hair again. 

“God, don’t _you know_ that’s not what it’s about! Are you stupid? Of course I enjoyed myself. Look at me, I'm a goddamn mess right now. This isn't about your performance, Daniel, it's about morals. What we did is extremely taboo,” replied Phil. He took a step toward Dan and reached to grab his shoulder, but Dan jerked away with a nasty look.

“Oh, I see, so now you’re suddenly Mr. Perfect again. Can’t have a weird incestual fling with your gross sinful brother, can we? So easy for you when literally any guy would chop off his dick for a chance to be with you.”

“You act like I’m some kind of hot piece that everyone was dying to get with before the aliens took over the world,” shot back Phil.

“You were to me!” exclaimed Dan. Then, back pedaling, he added. “No, but I get it, we’re never doing this again even though it was your fucking idea in the first place.”

Phil felt blinded with anger. A moment ago, Dan was a coy little sexbomb making Phil absolutely dizzy with arousal, and then no less than five minutes later he was back to being his petulant, irritating little brother with no regard for anyone but himself. 

“Do you have any idea how completely thick you can be sometimes? We. Are. Siblings. It’s not okay if we want to fuck.”

“I’m sorry, I can’t take you seriously when fifteen minutes ago you were wiping my cum off your hands. It doesn’t matter what’s okay or not. What does matter is your inability to decide what you want! Don’t say you want to do something then turn around and regret it the next minute. It’s exhausting me, you stupid fucking idiot!” yelled Dan. There was a lull in their fight, long enough that both brothers were able to glare at each other before coming together and kissing all over again. Phil pulled Dan to the ground and they kneeled as if in a messed up prayer, pressing their bodies together. Dan tangled his hands in Phil’s hair, and Phil grabbed the back of Dan’s already bruised neck. When they both pulled out of the kiss, Phil leaning back against his heels and Dan staggering to stand, they stared at each other a little dumbfounded.

“I’m sorry,” the both said at the same time. Phil scratched the back of his neck and Dan dug a toe into the carpet. Another silence.

“I don’t actually regret what we did,” said Phil at last “I just worry about us. About you, mostly. I don’t want this to get in the way of us being brothers. I love you. I always have loved you. You’re my little brother and you’re special to me. I’m not going to lie and say I didn't want to do that... but you’re my sibling first and that’s what is the most important.”

Dan suddenly wanted to leave. He didn’t understand why, considering everything Phil was saying was sweet and nice and comforting. Yet, something bothered Dan about the way Phil regarded him. 

“I’m sorry if I pressured you,” mumbled Dan in response. Phil stood up, walked over to him, and pulled Dan into another hug. Without letting go, he spoke again.

“You didn’t pressure me at all. I’m sorry if I made you felt like I didn’t enjoy what we just did,” Phil continued to hold on, hesitating before saying the next part. "But I'm serious. We can't do that again. It's going too far, and we need to be careful." 

Dan wanted to ask what they needed to be careful with: their actions or their feelings. Instead, he kept his mouth shut. When Phil pulled away, he opened his mouth to say something about dinner, but was interrupted by a crash in the kitchen.


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey I'm back from the dead with a short update. I got randomly inspired for this fic again, so I'm no longer on hiatus. Please drop a comment below, it really encourages me to write! I'm already working on the next chapter as this chapter was supposed to be longer, but I just felt like the tone shift was a bit too drastic. Enjoy! 
> 
> TW: Violence, gore.

It wasn’t the first time Phil experienced this type of fear. Before the aliens arrived, there were plenty of real-life opportunities to be frozen, staring wide-eyed at his brother.

There was the time in high school when Dan and Phil were arguing about something petty, something like Dan stealing Phil’s clothing or using his shampoo, when they heard a crash downstairs and their father yelling. In that time, they did the same thing—eyes widened, they watched each other, both feeling like their mouths were full of rocks. It was paralyzing fear. It took a moment to process both the implications of the noise itself and another to decide when it was safe to speak. Instinctual.

Years later, another crash came from the kitchen downstairs, but this time an even darker kind of fear froze the Phil’s insides like he was hit with liquid nitrogen. It was the kind of fear he’d only experienced in a dream: a fear of possible death. See, living in London in the 21st century with a relatively normal family (abusive tendencies aside) meant that Phil never truly feared for his life. Since the aliens invaded, that assumed safety was lifted, but there still remained a false sense of safety as weeks went by without much happening in their personal lives, even if the public was under siege.

The noise in the kitchen meant, for the first time since the axe-girl, that their lives were in true danger.

Dan watched Phil as his hands shook by his sides. It was evident from the look in his eyes that he’d reverted back to a child and needed his big brother to protect him. Footsteps—no, shuffling—could be heard from downstairs as a person or thing made their way slowly through the house. Phil jerked foreword, almost as if not on his own accord, and hastily locked the bedroom door. Grabbing Dan’s wrist, he pulled them both into the closet, a reaction that was achingly familiar to the first day of the invasion. Once inside, Dan began to hyperventilate, and Phil felt his heart beating in his ears as he covered his little brother’s hand with his mouth. It was rude, but more than anything Phil was panicked that whatever was in their house heard them.

Phil’s fears were confirmed when footsteps beelined quickly from the staircase to the bedroom door. Beside him, Dan gasped when the doorknob jiggled slowly at first, than violently. Enough light came in through the slates in the closet that Phil could see Dan’s face as panic, then defeat crossed his features and silent tears ran down his flushed cheeks. His mind raced as Phil tried to think of some way out. He knew this couldn’t be the end, if not for himself than his little brother—sweet Dan who had never been out of the country, who never listened to the new Panic! At the Disco album, who’d never had sex. God, Phil was only a few years older than him, so he couldn’t imagine what else more they could be missing in all the years that could be swiftly stolen by a creature from beyond their galaxy hell bent, for some reason, on killing them.

He grabbed Dan’s face and met his eyes. Blue and brown—their father and mother.

“Listen to me, I’m going out their to kill that thing, and I don’t care if I die, but I need you to promise me that no matter what happens you’ll escape out the window and go live your damn life. Daniel, can you promise me that?” asked Phil. His voice strained and tears pricked behind his eyes, but Phil couldn’t let himself be swept away by emotion again. He needed to keep the adrenaline pumping through him long enough to save his little brother.

Dan blinked rapidly in confusion, then reached out to grasp Phil’s shoulders in return. His entire being seemed to shake.

“You-you can’t do-do that. I—”

“We are going to die if I don’t do something,” replied Phil firmly. As they spoke, a loud thud echoed and the whole room shook as the creature repeatedly and methodically body-slammed into the door. Phil tried to think ahead to how he would attack the thing. Would it be best to sacrifice himself so Dan could have a minute to get away? Or would it be better to grab something heavy to hit it with? Did it have a weapon?

Dan’s tears came in earnest as he squeezed Phil’s shoulders too hard.

“But I love you,” replied Dan in a watery voice.

“I love you too,” said Phil automatically “That’s why I have to protect you. No one in our family has ever meant as much to me as you have. Always. Even when we fight, I love you so much, Dan.” Dan sniffled and a small sob escaped his chapped lips, but when Phil pulled away to face the door frame, Dan’s grip held him in place.

“You don’t understand!” cried Dan “I don’t just love you like a brother! I never have. Phil, I love you in all the ways you can love a person. I want to be with you, forever. You can’t sacrifice yourself for me. I don’t want to go on without you.” The words escaped as if without Dan's consent, and while Phil knew they meant something, his brain was too overloaded with worry to say anything. 

Time was running out as the door frame bent under the weight of the thing with the next thud. Phil managed to yank himself out of Dan’s grasp and nearly tumbled out of the closet. Dan hovered behind him, wiping the tears from his face.

“Go out the window!” yelled Phil as he heaved the bed in front of the door frame. In that familiar, stubborn way, Dan shook his head hard enough to cause sweaty curls to fall into his face.

“I’m not doing anything without you,” replied Dan. Phil growled in frustration, but didn’t start to fight with Dan as he frantically searched the room for a weapon. His eyes landed on a light fixture set up in the corner. It was a purple sphere of blown glass that rested atop a small under-lit pedestal. It weighed heavy enough that Phil once broke his toe trying to move it. The sphere was a little larger than an orange, so Phil took it in one hand and held a baseball bat he kept by his nightstand in the other.

“Don’t start this now, Dan. If you love me, leave out the window before it’s too late,” replied Phil. To his dismay, Dan ignored him, choosing instead to search the room for his own weapon. The door frame splintered.

The crack wood revealed a goliath of a man with eyes too far apart. A small part of Phil that hoped it was just a crazed addict or looter died at the sight of blackened eyes and broken skin right on the bridge of the nose. In one more body slam, the large man crawled through the opening and over the bed, launching itself straight at Phil.

Everything slowed down. Some instinctual part of Phil took over as Dan began screaming in the background. Forgetting any decision to sacrifice himself, Phil’s survival instincts took control as he swung the bat first at the creature’s stomach, then it’s head as it doubled over. Unlike the creature, Phil’s rebuttal had the advantage of surprise, and as it hit the ground with a hard thud, Phil realized the alien hadn’t expected any resistance. Before it could even move to get up, Phil immediately raised the glass ball over the creature’s head and slammed it with full force into the back of its scull. The first strike made a dent and the alien beneath him moaned. The second strike drew blood. The third strike cracked the bone and grey matter glued itself to the ball. By the fourth strike, the noises beneath Phil stopped and the head of the man-turned-creature lay open like a watermelon dropped from a rooftop. For good measure, Phil hit down a fifth time, and by then the entire glass ball was coated in brain, which stuck like warm oatmeal to his hands. It was then that Phil finally dropped the ornament to the side, took a step back, and realized that his chest was heaving from the effort.

Silence permeated the room as an air of absolute shock overtook the boys for a number of reasons. Dan dropped the coat hanger he’d grabbed on instinct. Both stared at the dead creature on the ground, which looked a lot more like a dead man. In fact, it looked so much like a dead man that Phil ran to the window, his fingers still dripping with blood, and vomited up the entire contents of his stomach.


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Drug use

After a vigorous shower, Phil emerged from the bathroom to find Dan waiting outside the door on the carpet. In strange synchronicity, it paralleled how Phil waited outside Dan’s bedroom not too long ago. Of course, that was “before.” Phil knew that from that point on, he would be defining his life as the “before” and “after.”

Neither had spoken since the attack. After Phil vomited three times, both shared a single look before bolting from the room and leaving the corpse behind. Despite the shower, Phil’s hands still shook, and even though Dan was watching him with intent eyes, Phil’s gaze kept wandering to the closed bedroom door down the hall. A beat-silence passed between them as Phil stood in the doorway wearing nothing but a towel dimly lit by candlelight. Dan cleared his throat.

“How about I get you a change of clothes,” murmured Dan. Phil nodded mutely, but then an idea struck him.

“Hey, while you’re at it, go to my bottom drawer and open up the shoebox inside. There should be a glass hitter and some weed in there,” said Phil.

“You smoke pot?” asked Dan. His somber tone was betrayed by a hint of surprise and chagrin in his voice. An eyebrow cocked in amusement. Phil rolled his eyes in response and was grateful for the small sense of normalcy.

“I went to Uni, didn’t I?” asked Phil. Dan shrugged with a Mona Lisa smile, then made his way down the hall. Phil noted the way he speedily opened and closed the door as to not allow Phil a glimpse of the corpse inside. It was night by that point. Phil stood in the dark hallway, trying really hard not think about the dead body in his bedroom, and trying even harder not to think about that body in terms of a person, although it had been a person, at least at some point, hadn’t it? What if beneath the alien within him there was still a person somewhere?

Phil couldn’t think of that, but his mind the entire shower led back there. That and the fact that brain matter was still clogged in the drain trap.

Luckily Phil’s train of thought was broken by Daniel emerged from the bathroom with a fresh pair of clothing in one hand and a bag of weed in the other. Before the invasion, Phil rarely smoked pot, and the paraphernalia was only a gift from a friend who visited once on holiday. Still, on occasion when job searching became too overwhelming or his family was particularly rubbing him the wrong way, Phil would open a window, light up, and blow the smoke out a toilet paper roll with a dryer sheet wrapped around the end (a trick he picked up in the dorms at Uni). Smoking weed calmed Phil but it never felt like something he needed to get through the day.

However, that was “before.”

With little abandon, he took the clothing and let his towel drop the floor. Even in the shroud of night, Phil watched Dan’s face turn pink. Phil allowed himself to linger at the sense of pride Dan’s reaction brought instead of trying to push it away; in fact, Phil decided, as he pulled on his shirt, that for the remainder of the night he would revel in any thoughts about Dan. There were only so many emotions that Phil could suppress at once. After killing a man, Phil felt silly for his outburst earlier and inhibitions about not going further with Dan. In a way Dan was right all along—the world had to be ending, so what did it matter if they felt attracted to each other? Dan provided a lovely distraction, if not a morally dubious one.

Phil didn’t even want to think about that right now. He would just let whatever happened, happen. It didn’t matter anymore.

“My room or the basement?” asked Dan.

“If you don’t mind your stuff smelling like pot, I’d rather sleep in a bed tonight,” replied Phil. Dan nodded without admitting to his brother that while he’d caught a whiff of pot smoke here or there at school events, never before had Dan actually gotten high on anything, including his own depression medication. Considering the occurrences of that day alone, Dan figured that getting high would be the least important “new” thing he’d done since breakfast.

Like Phil, Dan also pushed away the swirl of anxiety threatening to burst from his stomach. The words he’d spoken—thinking he was going to die, of course—still echoed in his mind.

_I don’t just love you like a brother! I never have. Phil, I love you in all the ways you can love a person._

Almost as soon as the words left Dan’s mouth, he regretted them. Not only had Dan never intended to let Phil know he felt that way, Dan also denied to himself those feelings. There was no way he could love his brother like _that_ , it was worse and far more complicated than the lust he’d already admitted to. He wondered if he should apologize or take it back. Would that help any? Dan felt like he needed a shower. As usual, he was being disgusting. Even though Phil seemingly just brained a person down the hallway, Dan somehow managed to fuck up their fragile situation even more. This wasn’t supposed to be about love. Phil only loved Dan as a brother. That was never what they agreed upon when they started fooling around. Dan feared more than anything that Phil was angry with him, and that’s why he acted so distant.

On top of that, an alien nearly killed them. It would be a lie to say that even for cynical Dan, the situation wasn’t jarring. Their proximity to death made Dan want to curl up in a ball and cry, but it also unlocked that side of him that was scarily reckless. It was the same side that pushed him to kiss Phil in the first place.

Like Phil, Dan didn’t want to worry about anything anymore. He didn’t want to think. He just wanted to let go.

They entered Dan’s room, set the candle on the bedside table, and locked the door behind them. For extra measure, Phil pushed Dan’s set of drawers in front of the door. While Phil was showering, Dan went to the liberty of moving a few kitchen knives and a different baseball bat into the room.

Silently, Phil plopped on the bed and began packing the hitter. He took care to pick the seeds out of the buds. As he worked Dan sat on the floor beneath him, feeling oddly calm. He knew the calm was synthetic—simply a reaction to coming down from the adrenaline rush from earlier—but he also felt grateful that after everything, Phil was still okay. Well, relatively speaking. Dan picked up on Phil’s shift in demeanor, and despite his worry he figured the best course of action would be to wait until Phil was ready to talk.

In the meantime, they could smoke and enjoy each other’s company.

“Never done this before,” mumbled Dan as he scooted to sit up on the bed. Phil didn’t meet his eyes as he toyed with the lighter they used on the candle.

“I’ve heard that one before,” he replied back casually. Dan’s heart skipped a beat at his older brother’s words and his eyes bolted up to search the older’s face, looking for a sign of something—hurt, regret, want. Likewise, Phil’s stoic face didn’t reveal much as he focused on burning the herbs in the hitter to the point of sufficiently smoking. The weed caught soon enough and burned like embers as Phil took a healthy drag. He held the smoke for a second as Dan watched, then let out a long exhale like a grey cloud. Phil’s eyes flicked up to Dan.

“You wanna try?” he asked. Dan nodded and took the smoking glass wand. Before holding it up to his lips, Phil grabbed Dan’s hand, wrapping their fingers atop one another that sent the younger’s heart racing. Holding the pipe still, Phil re-lit the pot for good measure, then led the tip to Dan’s mouth. Obediently, Dan parted his lips around the hitter, watching Phil with big brown eyes.

“Breath in slowly. If you inhale too fast, you’ll cough,” commanded Phil. The mood was already serious when they came in, but the tension seemed to mount as Phil drawled on in a low voice telling Dan what to do. It caused heat to curl in Dan’s lower stomach even though his mind seemed to move a mile a minute. Less than 24 hours prior, and what felt like several years ago, Phil told Dan they could never be intimate again. Yet as Phil held the hitter to his younger brother’s lips, Dan could practically feel the want radiating off his older sibling.

Dan tried to mimic the way Phil inhaled, but ended up in a sputtering cough. It only got worse when Phil pulled Dan into his lap and took the hitter from his hands.

“I said slowly,” repeated Phil as Dan let out a less-violent cough. Phil took a few more hits as Dan’s breathing calmed down, with one hand resting against Dan’s waist, the other holding the bowl. When Phil let out a third exhale of smoke, Dan pouted and grabbed for a turn.

“I want some,” grumbled Dan petulantly. Phil snorted and let him have the hitter, then proceeded to rub distracting circles through the fabric of Dan’s shirt, skimming the line of Dan’s jeans. Part of Dan knew he needed to ask what was going on, particularly concerning their interactions earlier that day, but the overriding part of Dan just wanted to forget that this was anything but normal. As he took a better inhale, the drugs only aided in calming him down enough to do just that—go with the flow.

By the time the weed was mostly smoked up, both brothers were sufficiently baked. Phil set the hitter on Dan’s beside table, but didn’t make to move from his position of holding onto Dan’s waist. Dan giggled a little bit, not sure what he found funny, then rolled over so his nose brushed Phil’s in the dark. Even in the flickering candle light, Dan was close enough to Phil’s face to see that his pupils were more dilated than he’d ever seen them before. Meanwhile, Dan’s eyes were red rimmed and glassy.

“Wanna make out?” asked Dan cheekily. The drugs made him feel buoyant and a little silly, which all things considered was quite a feat. Beneath him, Phil seemed to physically relax. The tension had been building for a good half hour or so, and Phil hadn’t been sure if it was even tactful to follow what they both wanted. He felt certain they were just going to side step their feelings until morning. Yet there was Dan, flushed and sitting on his lap, a small, dimpled grin on his face, being the only shiny beacon of light in what felt like an increasingly hopeless situation. As usual, Dan—without even trying—managed to be good when everything else felt bad.

Phil couldn’t wait to get lost in him, consequences be damned. 

“Sure,” said Phil.

At last, their lips met. Dan didn’t hesitate to direct Phil in what he wanted, moving one hand up to his hair and another down to his bottom. Phil responded in turn, tugging at Dan’s unruly curls while deepening their kiss. Lowering Dan onto the bed, Phil tugged down the collar of his brother’s tee, seeing fresh bruises from earlier that only sparked a sense of arousal and ownership in Phil. He nipped at Dan’s collarbone.

“Mmm want you to mark me up,” moaned Dan.

“You already have hickies from earlier, dumbass,” deadpanned Phil. For a moment, they broke through the tension as Dan smacked Phil’s arm, both erupting in childish giggles. Phil bowed his head foreword into the crook of Dan’s shoulder and smiled against his skin.

“Maybe I want more,” responded Dan. He casually racked a hand through Phil’s hair, loving how comfortable they felt together. Since everything was already off limits, it felt like they didn’t need to subscribe to some sort of set actions. They could take a moment to be silly and soft. It was nice.

“Slut,” teased Phil. Dan bit his lip to hold back a moan, because he knew that Phil meant it cheekily, not in a way that was supposed to be stirring Dan’s erection. Innocently, Phil kissed a gentle line up Dan’s neck, forcing them back to a slower pace than when they’d begun. Dan pulled him back into a heated kiss; as usual, he couldn’t help but be an impatient brat. In response, Phil gently pushed the younger back into the mattress and ran a hand under Dan’s tee shirt, exploring his body. Dan arched off the bed needily, Phil pushed him back down. When Phil went back to nibbling a particularly sensitive spot behind Dan’s ear, yet continued to keep his hands firmly planted on Dan’s waist, Dan was certain he was going to burst.

“Please touch me,” whined Dan. As he spoke, he grabbed Phil’s wrist again, pulling his hand over to his crotch and wantonly thrusting against it. Phil lightly brushed his fingers against Dan’s clothed erection before pulling away.

“That’s not a good idea,” mumbled Phil half-heartedly.

“We can stop…” replied Dan with a sigh. Despite his aching erection, Dan scooted back against the pillow to put space between them, not in the mood for a fight while feeling so heady and nice. Likewise, Phil grabbed his shoulders, pulled him back down, and kissed him with heat. Dan smiled into the kiss while wrapping himself around Phil.

“No, I don’t wanna stop, I just—we can’t—we shouldn’t—” Phil sputtered. He squeezed Dan’s waist uncomfortably hard and groaned in frustration against his chest. Dan ran a soothing hand down his back.

“Phil, we don’t have to do anything you don’t want—”

“I know, the problem is I _do_ want to. I want you so badly. I thought maybe getting high, I could loosen up and just… but I still feel bad because you’re my little brother and all of this is so fucked up and I don’t know—"

“What do you _want_ to do? And what do you _not_ want to do? Let’s just start with that,” said Dan. He reached foreword, grabbing Phil’s chin so their eyes met in the flickering light. Phil’s eyes searched his face for any sign of discomfort, but Dan simply watched him with unusual patience, despite the heat that seemed to make his entire body throb. Phil sighed.

“I want to make you cum. But I don’t want to touch you underneath your clothing,” said Phil. Once again, Dan bit his lip as a shiver went up his spine at his older brother’s words. He nodded.

“Then do that,” mumbled Dan. Phil let out a humorless laugh, then kissed along Dan’s chin, unable to resist touching him with the look on his face.

“How do you suppose I do that?” asked Phil. Heat rose to Dan’s cheeks.

“You know I’m a virgin. With the way you’ve been working me up so far, it shouldn’t take much,” replied Dan. Phil pulled back from his ministrations, his eyes wide and watching Dan excitedly.

“Seriously?” he asked, a bit dumfounded. Dan looked down, then nodded. When he looked up, Phil was grinning stupidly.

“Dammit, you’re too much,” whispered Phil almost to himself before going back to touching Dan.

This time, Phil didn’t hesitate to reach down and rub Dan’s erection through the fabric of his jeans. As he worked, Phil also latched onto Dan’s collarbone, turning already purple hickies an even darker shade of bruise. Dan’s hands reached for the button of his jeans, but when Phil pulled back in panic, Dan held him in place.

“I’ll keep my shorts on, just please don’t stop,” begged Dan. Phil nodded and went back to rubbing Dan’s cock through the fabric of his trousers. Dan reached foreword and experimentally groped Phil’s growing erection through his sweatpants.

“This okay?” asked Dan.

“Yeah,” Phil replied huskily. His cock twitched inside his grey sweatpants, and Phil realized it had been ages since someone else touched him. Dan’s hand was tentative and experimental like any virgin. This only served to turn Phil on more, and he responded by expertly rutting against just the right spots, sending Dan into pitiful whimpers.

They kissed hard and brushed against each other needily. Phil’s cock throbbed miserably in his pants, aching for release, but Dan’s ministrations soon stopped as he threw his head back against the pillow. His eyes were screwed shut, expression was blissed out, and sweat formed around along his hairline.

Before Phil could even ask, Dan came hard, yelling out his name. Phil leaned down, kissing Dan passionately through the high, and when he pulled back they were both panting against each other’s skin. After a moment, Phil extracted himself from his little brother’s grasp, and looked down to see a wet spot on the front of his underwear. When he looked back up at Dan, he looked absolutely stunning with red cheeks and relaxed limbs, a post-coital picture. Phil moaned in frustration and flopped beside him.

“That’s the second time I haven’t cum today and you have,” complained Phil half-heartedly. Next to him, Dan giggled, now high from a mixture of endorphins and THC. He rolled over on his side and looped a few fingers with Phil, who lay on his back watching the ceiling in high frustration. Everything felt dizzy from the touching and Phil still couldn’t believe just how hot Dan looked yelling his name. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying to save the image in his brain for later.

“Why don’t we make it a third time?” teased Dan. At this, Phil rolled his eyes and smacked his little brother’s arm.

“You act like a virgin, you know that?” replied Phil. Dan only hummed in response, running a hand along Phil’s arm and leaving a trail of gooseflesh. Phil looked down at his own throbbing erection and wondered if it were better for him to wait until morning to wank or not. After the day’s events, he was quite exhausted.

“I could get you off,” suggested Dan. Another eye roll.

“No you can’t. I told you I’m putting limits on this,” lied Phil. Despite the fact he wasn’t sure he meant it, Phil’s voice at least sounded the same as earlier that day, and the familiarity brought false comfort. Dan groaned in response, another familiar sound, and flopped onto his back again.

“You can’t be serious about that after making me cum again. What--so it’s okay because you didn’t touch my cock? What exactly _are_ we allowed to do? I mean, I think we’ve crossed the threshold of brotherly affection at this point,” whined Dan. Phil bit his lip. He considered Dan’s words. For the first time, he could see that maybe Dan had a point. Of course, this could all be fueled by his lingering lust and lowered inhibitions, as well as the fact that they now lived in the “after” world, a world that was more fragile than their budding relationship, but… Phil entered into the bedroom with the intention to get lost in Dan, and only ended up repeating their interaction from earlier that day. Would there really be any harm if they took things further?

Phil knew it was wrong, but he also felt that was what he needed. It was like a rubber band snapped inside him and suddenly Phil finally let go.

“I mean… Would you even know what to do?” responded Phil, his tone a touch lighter. Beside him Dan, who was on the defense, physically relaxed and continued to trace up and down Phil’s arm.

“Is that a challenge?” retorted Dan. Their eyes met in the dying candle light, and Phil couldn’t help but smile at the dopey, lust-driven expression back on Dan’s face. He really was an over eager virgin.

“Sure. Impress me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gah! I'm so nervous about putting this chapter out. It wasn't the exact direction I originally planned for this scene, but I'm fairly happy with the results. I know we are over 10 chapters in and they still haven't had sex, but I'm always worried about things progressing too fast. I hope this reads well and I hit the emotional beats alright. 
> 
> Fun fact, my fiance walked through the living room while I was writing this and was like "What's going on in your fanfic now?" and I just deadpanned "Phil killed a man so now he's going to fuck his brother" and my fiance, bless his soul, was just like "Ah, makes sense." He knows exactly who he's marrying.


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TW: Gore

“Just tell me if what I’m doing isn’t okay,” said Dan. He lowered himself down Phil’s body. Phil swallowed hard enough that his Adam’s apple bobbed and nodded. He watched as Dan peeled down his shorts, tossed them to the side, and eyed Phil’s cock hungrily. Before Dan made contact, however, his brown eyes flicked up to meet Phil’s, and Phil nodded in confirmation.

He couldn’t believe it, but Phil was going to allow his little brother to blow him.

All doubts and worries vanished, however, as warm, wet heat enveloped his cock. Dan wasn’t experienced by any means, but he was anything if not enthusiastic. Phil grabbed at the bed sheets, balling them in his hands as Dan wetted his cock, licking up and down the sides lewdly and giving the tip experimental kitten licks. Phil groaned.

“Oh my god, Dan, Jesus Christ…” murmured Phil. His mutterings only spurred Dan on as he experimented with different speeds and pressures, sucking and licking his way up and down Phil’s rather impressive cock. Phil felt heady from the weed and adrenaline. Sure, Phil wasn’t exactly a picky lover, but if his porn preferences showed anything it was that Phil loved sweet, enthusiastic virgins. Dan was like a wet dream come to life with the way he worked Phil’s cock as if it were a new toy to explore. To add to that was the fact that what they were doing was just so _wrong_ , plus the fact that Phil was so pent up from their interactions earlier that day. Phil couldn’t imagine anything more hot, and when Dan experimentally began playing with his balls and perineum, Phil grabbed his hair.

“Stop, stop, stop, I’m already close,” warned Phil. Dan glanced up at him, his mouth still full of cock, and Phil tilted his head back because if that wasn’t a sight to see…

After a moment of pulsing in Dan’s mouth and taking deep breaths in through his nose, Phil released Dan’s hair. Dan picked up a rhythm as he bobbed his head up and down Phil’s length. It was predictable enough that Phil was able to hold on a bit longer, but soon enough that curl of heat rose in his lower abdomen. This time, even though it was embarrassingly quick, Phil didn’t stop Dan or tell him to slow down, but instead rode the waves of pleasure as Dan’s tongue flicked up to massage the head.

As soon as Phil was about to reach his peak, however, Dan pulled off his cock with a wet pop. Blue eyes met brown and Dan smirked. Phil’s cock was throbbing visibly in the air, but there wasn’t enough friction that he was able to cum. Before Phil could ask Dan what he was doing, once again he bent foreword and swallowed down almost all of Phil’s length. Dan tried to deep throat Phil to the best of his abilities, but being so inexperienced as well as Phil’s size being quite commendable, Dan began to gag a little. Likewise, to Phil’s surprise, the gagging only seemed to spur Dan on, and the enthusiastic virgin was now palming at his own growing erection in his wet underwear. If Phil could form words, he would have commented about how insane it was that Dan was already hard again.

Dan moaned around Phil’s cock and the vibrations were enough that Phil could feel himself beginning to reach his peak again. Despite the fact it was impolite, Phil bucked up into Dan’s mouth, causing Dan to gag and subsequently moan again. Phil’s breathing picked up pace as he got closer, when suddenly the wet heat disappeared again. Shocked, Phil’s eyes popped open to see Daniel watching him. He was flushed and his lips were wet, but as usual his eyes held a bit of coy amusement.

“What the—Dan, please, I was so close I—”

“I know, that’s why I stopped,” replied Dan. Phil’s heart picked up speed as he realized that Dan was doing this on purpose. His sweet, inexperienced younger brother was edging him. It was bratty, and rude, and overwhelmingly filthy.

“You said to impress you,” explained Dan. Phil wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so Dan shrugged with a small smile and went back to sucking him off.

This time, Dan focused on the tip of Phil’s cock before taking in the rest of his length, alternating between deep throating and lapping at the head. Phil wanted to let go, but the change in pressure and speed was causing him difficulty in reaching his peak again. Moaning in frustration, it took everything in Phil’s power not to grab a handful of brown curls and direct Daniel himself. Dan popped off his cock for a moment to suck and play with his balls, and Phil could practically see stars.

Finally, Dan showed Phil some mercy and began to work his cock again in earnest. As he grew closer, Phil was surprised to hear himself pathetically whimper out a desperation, hoping that Dan wouldn’t continue to edge him.

At last, Phil was able to cum. He came harder than he had in years. As he reached his peak, Phil grabbed the back of Dan’s head and held him down, his cock spilling cum into his mouth. After a moment, Phil released him, feeling embarrassed for being so rude. When Dan sat up shakily, he swallowed ( _of course he swallows_ thought Phil), but then made a face like he’d just taken a shot of something strong.

“Gross,” commented Dan. Despite the fact Phil wasn’t sure he was able to form words, he chuckled deeply.

“Have you never tasted yourself before?” asked Phil after a moment of recovery. Dan shook his head.

“Well, I mean sure, a little, but never, like, _that_ much,” complained Dan “You came so much.” With a yawn, Dan curled up beside Phil again, facing him in the darkness. During their interactions, the candle burned out, leaving them with darkness only lit by the moon outside.

“That’s your own fault for edging me so much. Where did you learn to do that?” asked Phil. Dan shrugged.

“I do it on myself sometimes,” he said. Despite the fact he was actually spent, the image of Dan getting himself off made Phil’s insides stir a bit. He mentally filed that under ideas of things to try later.

It was obvious to Phil there wasn’t going back at that point. He decided it was time to just let it go and enjoy the ride.

Maybe. Or maybe that was the high talking.

“Right, well I’m exhausted after all that I don’t know about you. Goodnight Dan, love you,” said Phil.

“Night,” replied Dan softly. And despite everything that happened that day, they were both able to fall asleep curled up in each other's warmth. 

* * *

The next morning, however, the stark reality of the bright sun woke up Dan. Looking over at Phil, Dan sat up in a panic, not because of what they had done, but out of worry. Everything about the previous day came rushing back to Dan, and even though parts of it were blissful, wonderful memories Dan knew he would cherish until the day he died, a lot of anxiety also bloomed in those memories.

There was no way Phil wasn’t going to regret how far they’d gone. He was going to be pissed.

Dan told Phil he loved him more than a brother. Shit, shit, shit.

And, there was a dead body of a person/ alien in the next room over.

Dan emerged from the bed as smoothly as possible, careful not the wake Phil. He wondered if this is what the morning after felt like for normal people as he hastily pulled on some clothes. Tip-toeing out of the room, Dan knew that his best bet would be to tread as lightly as possible, both literally and figuratively.

First problem in his way was the fact that Dan needed to get rid of that dead body. There was no way Phil was in a good enough mental state to deal with burying the body of the alien, which looked more like a man that he just killed. And despite the fact Dan was pretty sure he himself was _never_ in a good enough mental state for much of anything, he figured it would be best to take care of it as soon as possible. They needed that body out of the house anyway or, if true crime shows were to be trusted, it was going to smell.

Likewise, this task was easier said then done. When Dan cracked open the door to Phil’s room, a shudder ran through him as he saw the body lying brained on the carpet. When he attempted to simply drag the body toward the doorway, it proved to be much heavier than expected. Sure, Dan could pull it small distances, but it was going to be impossible for Dan to drag it through the upstairs hallway, down the stairs, through the den, then out the back door into the garden.

The only solution Dan could think of was to push it out the window.

It felt unceremonious and very disrespectful, but Dan figured he had no other choice as he hooked his arms beneath the armpits of the body and hoisted it up toward the window. At first, Dan was thrown off balance, and to his disgust some of the blood and brain matter brushed his face. Dan turned his face away, trying not the breathe through his nose, trying not the think about the implications of the slimy stuff on his cheek, and took a few steps backward toward the open window. The feet of the body dragged loudly on the floor as Dan reached the window. Finally, using his hip Dan propped the body against the open window, gathered the legs in his arms, and flipped the whole thing over his shoulder into the garden. The body landed with a thud.

Rushing to the bathroom, Dan turned on the tap and refused to look at the mirror as he washed his face and arms of blood and bits of brain matter. He tried not the gag, tried not the think about it, but a bit of dry heaving came up regardless. Dan squeezed his eyes shut and willed himself to focus. He needed to finish this for Phil.

It wasn’t hard to locate the shovel they usually used for burying garbage, and Dan tried to get himself in the mindset of doing just that. It was wrong to think of a dead body— a body that, at one point, was a person—as garbage, but it was the only way Dan would get through this. It was chilly out but luckily the ground hadn’t frozen yet. As he dug, Dan continued to scan the area for more signs of life, of people or creatures, because the last thing he needed was to get himself killed. He was trying to make Phil’s life easier, not harder. Also, a small part of Dan was happy to say that for completely selfish reasons, he wanted to stay alive. It was odd because before the invasion, Dan couldn’t say he felt that way every day.

It took over an hour to dig a hole big and deep enough. Dan knew that the rule was six feet under, and figured to get as close to six feet as possible because they didn’t need a big rain washing up a dead body. Finally, Dan rolled the body into the hole, trying to ignore the way it’s arms and legs flopped, then proceeded to fill the hole back up with dirt.

It wasn’t until he was in the shower that Dan let himself soak in the implications of what he’d just done. In the world they used to live in, he never imagined he would have to bury a dead body. Even worse, he never imagined he would be inspired to bury a dead body to spare his brother’s feelings, feelings he cared way too much about because whether Dan wanted to face it or not, he was in love with his big brother. Dan sat on the floor of the tub and let the water wash the dirt and blood away. He stayed like that for a while and watched the water run from black to clear. It swirled down the drain, carrying with it years of pent up frustration, and plenty of pain.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So legit I had SUCH WRITER'S BLOCK for this scene until I had a dream last night and, whelp, here you go. I actually have some fluffy stuff planned for next chapter despite the fact this is an angst fic, so if the ending has you down well stick around because it's about the get tooth-rottingly sweet. Drop a comment down below, I legit check my phone obsessively after posting a chapter because I'm really anxious about what y'all have to say!


	17. Chapter 17

Time didn’t move the same for Dan after the invasion. Since the attack and subsequent fooling around, Dan felt like weeks sped by without his notice. In reality, it was only a few days. In those days, Phil dropped off some of his survival prepping and instead the focus was completely on indulging himself with Dan. The routine became set—wake up, eat, shower, hang out, fool around, sleep, and repeat. Sometimes hanging out meant playing a board game. Other times, it meant more kissing. They didn’t talk about the attack. They talked about books and movies, funny stories from their childhood and video games they missed playing, but never the attack. Dan knew there was plenty about that day to talk about, but as time passed in chunks of unused time, it seemed that the distance from the event was growing.

Likewise, for Phil time continued to be just as finite as it was before the invasion. In fact, time felt all the more stark. He became aware of how many days went by without electricity when his phone died. He knew that it was now November and the aliens still loomed in the air a month after the world’s governments swore they would take care of it. In a month it would be the start of winter, which without electricity could be a problem. It had been exactly 3 days since Phil killed a man. The calendar read November 4th. Saturday. The day of the wedding.

Only a few months earlier (they felt like months to Phil; Dan felt like it was years ago), Phil received a save the date for his buddy Jeff’s wedding. It was a friend from Uni, marrying another friend from Uni, Eliza. Phil wasn’t particularly close to Eliza or Jeff, but had been looking foreword to seeing his friends from school again. Since the attack, he’d thought about his friends a bit during the gaps of times in which he wasn’t focusing on survival, thinking about this new thing with Dan, or processing how the world around him suddenly tilted on its edge. Phil hoped all his friends were okay, but there was no way of him knowing, and even if they were he wasn’t sure he would ever see them again. As time starkly wore on, Phil was beginning to lose hope that the world would go back to normal.

Yet when the day of the wedding rolled around, Phil couldn’t help but sulk.

Dan woke first, as usual, and began their morning routine. He rolled around, gave Phil a gentle kiss, the emerged from bed to grab their breakfast. Rations were still doing fine, but Phil informed him that they needed to cut back to only eating breakfast and dinner. Dan obliged, even if the want to boredom-eat set in more often then he liked. Morning moved slowly for Dan as he brought bowls of cereal (no milk) up to his room and left one on the bedside table for Phil. As the sun rose, Dan ate his breakfast on the roof, scouting for any potential threats while also enjoying the cool, late-autumn breeze. By the time he was done eating Phil was usually up and running the shower. Showers together weren’t very sexy with the water-heater not working, so usually as soon as Phil jumped out, Dan jumped in and washed off the sweat from the night before hastily.

Likewise, that Saturday Phil was still in bed when Dan climbed in through the window. Dan didn’t think much of it, brushing his teeth and taking a quick ice-cold shower. When he crawled back into bed, Dan was surprised to find Phil wide awake, staring moodily at the ceiling.

“Good morning,” said Dan as he curled his body against Phil’s. Phil, despite being in a funk, still wrapped an arm around his younger brother.

“Hi,” said Phil flatly with a sigh. Dan pouted and reached up to run his fingers through Phil’s hair. The reddish-brown roots were more apparent now, the same copper color as Dan’s hair, another marker of their relation.

“What’s wrong?” asked Dan. The question felt stupid as soon as he said it. What wasn’t wrong? Society collapsed, Phil killed a man, and now the only spark of joy in their lives was their odd, incestual relationship that both of them refused to talk about. Dan cringed and sunk a little deeper into the bedsheets, hoping that Phil’s answer would be more tactful than the one in his head.

“It’s stupid, but… Today I was supposed to go to my friend’s wedding. I barely talked to them anymore, but I couldn’t wait to see my friends again and have a night out,” once again Phil sighed. The words spilled out without him meaning, but Phil had always been an open book, so Dan nodded, unsurprised by his explanation. Dan tried to empathize, but in an odd way the world before them seemed so bleak compared to the world they were in now. Sure, society post-invasion was undoubtably more scary, but when it came to daily happiness and freedom Dan felt like the new world was just better. It was another sign, to Dan, that something was wrong with him, because it was evident that Phil, a nice, _normal_ person, didn’t feel the same way.

“That’s not stupid. I would be upset too,” lied Dan. Not saying anything, Phil rolled over and began kissing Dan, running a hand down his bare back and sighing into the other’s mouth. The way he kissed felt sad, but had an undercurrent of neediness, of desperation. Dan pulled away.

“Phil, you can’t just ignore how you’re feeling,” said Dan. _Oh the fucking irony…_ he thought. Yet when Phil pressed foreword to embrace him again, Dan pulled back.

“I don’t want to mope around all day. That’s not going to make me feel better,” complained Phil. Dan nodded, but kept the distance between them.

“Okay well… then let’s make today busy. What are some survival things we need to do to keep this place running?” asked Dan. Phil rolled onto his back away from his younger brother and stared at the ceiling with his brow furrowed, like he was trying to read it.

“I was thinking about studying some of mum’s old gardening books. There isn’t much we can do in winter, but if we want to be okay come spring we need to plan ahead. We also need to make a list of stuff we need next time we scavenge and… a fence, we need to set up another fence around our yard to make it harder to get in.” Running a hand over his face, Phil finally sat up. For the first time in three days, he realized he’d been neglecting his role as both leader and survival expert. The list of tasks they needed to complete was only going to get longer when winter rolled around and Phil realized with dread that he needed to start using his time wiser if they wanted a chance of survival.

“Cool, you get started on that, and I’ll get started on my own project,” replied Dan chipperly. He stood up from the bed and held out a bowl of cereal to Phil. Phil took it, but gave his brother an odd look.

“You have your own project?” he asked dubiously. 

“Yup, it’s a surprise,” said Dan with a cheeky wink before exiting the room. Phil shoveled a spoonful of cereal in his mouth, both pleased and worried to see his younger sibling so happy.

* * *

Around dinner time, Daniel emerged from their home to find Phil in the backyard unravelling chicken wire around fallen branches. It appeared he was making a second fence, one that would be invisible to the naked eye at night and, if nothing else, would make a lot of noise if someone crossed it once Phil attached unused cups and silverware. It was another one of the survival ideas he pulled from the tellie. After the attack exactly 3 days ago, it seemed wise to set up more alert systems and protections in case another curious creature decided to go after the brothers again.

Dan stood in the threshold watching his brother for a moment. Phil was still skinny and despite the manual labor over the past few weeks (weeks? Months? It all sort of slipped by for Dan) he hadn’t built up much muscle. Still, even sweaty and aggravated by the chicken wire that kept cutting his hands, Phil was handsome. To the naked eye, they probably didn’t look related, Dan realized. Until Phil was a preteen, they shared the same hair color, and in adulthood they were about the same height, but the similarities ended there. Dan rationed that maybe that was why he was so attracted to him despite the fact they were siblings; a handsome brother who looked genetically quite different meant that maybe some of neurons that fired off in Dan’s brain weren’t wrong. Maybe his attraction was instinctual. Of course, Dan knew that didn’t make it any less morally grey, but most of him didn’t care. In fact, he wolf-whistled to get his older sibling’s attention, and felt a flutter in his chest when Phil responded with a bashful smile.

“Oh, shut up,” Phil said, setting the wire down and approaching Dan. For a moment, Dan allowed himself to smile like a lovestruck fool. Tonight was about being indulgent, Dan decided.

“As nice as you look like this—” started Dan, when Phil cut him off with a laugh.

“I said _shut up_ , you prick,” he reiterated.

“What I was _saying_ is as nice as you look setting up chicken wire in the backyard, I need you showered and wearing something nice in 20 minutes,” replied Dan. Phil groaned.

“Is this about your super secret task you’ve been working on all day while I’ve been doing the real work?” griped Phil. Dan smiled and shoved him into the house. He took care to steer his brother up the stairs when he stopped to examine the living room, which Dan sneakily cut off from the main portion of the home with a precariously hung sheet.

“Yes it does, and not only is it secret, it’s a surprise. Now come on, go change.”

Phil did as instructed. As he got ready, Phil refrained from allowing his mind to wander because truthfully, he wanted it to be a surprise. He ducked into his room, pointedly ignored the blood stain on the carpet, and grabbed a pair of black slacks and a button up shirt from his bottom drawer. The edges of the clothing items were folded neatly—not by Phil, but by his mum from before the invasion. Phil almost felt bad ruffling his slacks out of their neat press, even if he didn’t particularly miss his mum. As he sped out of the room Phil paused to grab a bottle of cologne off his dresser. After getting dressed, Phil patted a small amount of cologne on his neck, just enough to not overpower.

It wasn’t until he was waiting for Dan at the top of the stairs that Phil reflected on an uninvited thought that floated into his head.

_I hope Dan likes it._

Luckily, Dan appeared from around the corner (wearing a light purple button up and black dress pants) with a shy smile on his mouth that took Phil’s breath and anxieties away.

“Hi,” said Dan.

“Hey,” breathed Phil.

They both took a moment to stand in the hallway, blinking and uncertain, before Dan took his older brother’s hand.

“Okay, so now that we’re dressed up, I am feeling a bit silly about all this. But just keep in mind, I only wanted to make you happy. Sorry if it’s dorky,” babbled Dan as he led Phil down the stairs. Phil rolled his eyes.

“I’m sure whatever it is, I’ll like it,” replied Phil. They made it to the bottom of the stairs, and Dan let go of Phil’s hand, then sped up around the sheet blocking the living room. Phil peaked after him, then stopped in the entryway with an open mouth.

The first aspect that Phil noticed were the collection of paper stars hung from the ceiling with what appeared to be dental floss. He hadn’t even realized there was paper in the house, yet above them a constellation of yellow, blue, and black folded stars dotted the ceiling, spinning in lazy circles. Next, Phil’s eyes landed—and teared up—at seeing the banner tacked up across the windows, lit orange by the setting sun, in Dan’s messy handwriting trying to look neat. It read "Congrats Eliza and Jeff.”

There was more. A table set up in the corner held a dusty punchbowl from the basement, a bottle of vodka sitting proudly behind it. The furniture was pushed to the walls like a frat party and the kitchenette table was dragged into the room with two dinners of canned beans and fruit plated and waiting on top. In an attempt to make it look more fancy, Dan had lit a pumpkin scented candle between the two plates. The floor was obviously set up to be a dance floor, the intentions of which were made clear by Dan when he flicked on their father’s battery-operated cassette player. Billy Joel’s “Moving Out” began to play cheerily from its tinny speakers. In the middle of the room, like a center piece, Eliza and Jeff’s save-the-date was taped to the wall.

“Like I said, a little cheesy, but I—”

Phil cut his brother off with a messy kiss. When he pulled back, he buried his face into Dan’s shoulder, but the younger felt dampness from were their cheeks pressed together. Shocked, Dan turned off the cassette player.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to make you cry, I—”

“Shut up. It’s perfect. You’re perfect,” said Phil. With a loud sniff, he pulled back, and took the cassette player from Dan’s hand. He turned back on the music, then brushed a stray tear from his cheek. The watched each other with the music the only sound between them.

“Thank you,” said Phil. Dan smiled.

“Anytime.”

* * *

The night was winding down. Over Phil’s shoulder, Dan took a cheeky sip of vodka, trying not to smirk at the acrid taste. Phil nuzzled his neck, then bit his ear lightly, floating nicely on his own light buzz. After a few oldie’s cassettes, they’d landed back on Billie Joel, and were slow dancing to “Just the Way You Are.” Phil’s arms were warm around Dan’s waist, and Dan didn’t bother keeping his eyes open as they swayed to the light guitar and gentle lyrics.

_I don’t want clever conversation. I never want to work that hard._

They’d made their way through dinner before the dancing. For the first time since everything, it felt like Phil had a moment to mourn what he’d lost.

“I miss them. I really do. I missed my friends from Uni before the world went to shit, but now it really feels like I’ll never see them again,” Phil sighed. Dan listened. It struck him that while they’d talked before, Dan never really allowed himself to listen to Phil the way he’d listen to a friend. It made all the difference. Phil blossomed over their makeshift fancy meal, and physically sagged in relief when he was done talking.

“I’m sorry to be a downer, but I just feel like it’s been building up over the past few months,” complained Phil. Taking a sip of lukewarm water, Dan put down his glass than reached across the table to rest his hand over Phil’s. His eyes flicked up to meet his in the candlelight, Dan was glad the dark would hide his blush, because the sudden intimacy of the moment struck him. It really felt like a date.

“All we have is each other now. You’re allowed to talk to me about anything,” said Dan softly. Phil nodded, then flipped his hand over, tangling their fingers.

“That goes both ways.”

_I wouldn’t leave you in times of trouble. We never could have come this far._

After their dinner, they did toasts. Dan poured them each a cup of vodka with some Sprite, but between the two of them they only had a single can left, meaning the rest of the night would be straight vodka. Dan took Phil’s hand, led him to the save-the-date pinned to the wall, and held his coffee mug aloft.

“To Eliza and Jeff. Whatever has happened to them, and whatever will happen to us doesn’t matter. They were in love at one point, and that in and of itself is worth celebrating,” said Dan. Phil, too choked up to speak, clinked his old coffee mug with Dan’s, then took a nice pull of alcohol.

_What will it take till you believe in me/ the way that I believe in you?_

The whole night wasn’t as somber following the toast. Once they’d finished off their drinks and finished the Billie Joel cassette, they switched to a cassette labelled “Best of the 70’s and 80’s” which opened, inappropriately, with Donna Summer’s “Last Dance.” Phil stood awkwardly in the middle of the dance floor staring at Dan, who watched him back with equal awkwardness as the opening of the song played from the small speaker. They watched each other, then broke into giggles as the slow part continued for far too long. Finally, Dan did a goofy twirl, and Phil responded with a disco-point and cheesy peace signs. They drank more vodka, at first showing off their goofiest dance moves, then finally actually dancing together. Taking each other’s hands, they stepped foreword and back, spun each partner in circles, and hugged and swayed in time with the upbeat tunes. At one point “Never Gonna Give You Up” played, causing both to lose their collective shit loud enough that if any aliens were nearby, they would probably be too scared of the pained moose noises coming from the flat to attack.

They only had enough vodka between the two of them to get a little drunk. It was the nice type of drunk that loosened ones’ restraints, but didn’t affect them enough that either would be vomiting by sunrise. At first, Dan skipped past the slow songs, but when Phil Collins’ “In the Air Tonight” came on, Phil grabbed the hand that reached for the fast foreword button on the cassette, and put it on his waist instead. By the end of the night, both were a warm enough from dancing that the cold of November didn’t penetrate the room, but by the third slow song, they were pressed together for warmth if nothing else. Likewise, there was charge between them that suggested the closeness resulted from something else other than practical reasons.

_I could not love you any better. I love you just the way you are._

Maybe it was the booze, or the dancing, or his recent insanity, but Dan tilted his head to kiss Phil on the mouth, softly at first, then with more urgency. Phil kissed back with just as much passion, then tugged the collar of Dan’s shirt to move them to the couch. Dan, however, held them in place with hand on the small of his back. The urgency of the kissing died down and became sloppy, a bit wet. Phil placed open-mouthed kisses along the line of Dan’s jaw, then nipped lightly at a particularly sensitive part of his neck. A moan escaped Dan’s mouth. Phil suckled harder, sure the leave a purple bruise in the morning, and moved his hands down to grip Dan’s hips. Dan raked his hands through Phil’s hair, tilted his head back, and allowed himself to get lost in the moment: his spinning head, the music, the sensation of his brother’s warmth on the chilly evening.

“I love you,” whispered Dan.

Both boys froze. The next song on the album began playing, but neither of them responded to it.

“I love you too,” said Phil softly. Yet something in his voice gave way. Something about his loosened grip and dodgy eye contact said the unspoken: _I’m saying as a brother and I’m giving you a way out._

Out of stupidity as much as passion, Dan pushed on.

“Phil,” he chided softly. At this, Phil broke apart, clicked off the cassette player, and sat on the couch. The candle went out a while ago and the stars above spun softly. The house creaked with night noises, and the sounds of the paper rustling above them was apparent as the silence and darkness filled the space between them.

At this point, Dan lowered himself to his knees, then leaned his forehead against Phil’s thigh. He didn’t’ stop from looking up coquettishly, but his gaze softened from one of lust to love quickly. For once, Phil was scared and Dan needed to guide him. Dan took his hand and was relieved when his older brother didn’t pull away.

“It wasn’t supposed to go this far,” mumbled Phil quietly.

“I can let it be a crush if you want. I can pretend this all didn’t happen. But I do. I mentioned it when I thought—” Dan sidestepped discussion of killing the alien. “And then we never talked about it.”

“I figured you were just being dramatic.”

“I’m _always_ being dramatic,” Dan attempted to lighten the mood a bit. Phil smiled in a way that was almost a ‘thank you.’ They watched each other carefully, both stumbling over their words like hikers over vines in uncharted territory.

“So, you mean… you love me more than a brother?” asked Phil.

“Yeah. Like a boyfriend. Or a soul mate. Or something,” Dan stumbled. Phil looked away, but Dan squeezed his hand in a plea for them to stay grounded. After a beat, Phil looked back.

“It’s wrong. This is all very wrong. But the world’s ending and it’s stupid to deny it anymore. I’ve been fighting it for a while too….” Phil drawled slowly. He slid off the couch to meet Dan at eye level, then held his younger brother’s face as they kissed in a gentle way that Dan wasn’t sure was a hello or a goodbye.

“Phil?”

“I love you too. Less like a brother, more like a soul mate. Jesus. I don’t know if this is the new world we’re in, or if it was there before this all went down. I’m sure it has something to do with our upbringing, and our reliance on each other as children, and I know it’s sure as hell not healthy…. And who knows, if things hadn’t changed out there in the world, maybe we both would have suppressed this until the day we died but…. I don’t know if that would have been good, for either of us, social taboos be damned… I’m blabbering. But I love you. I do,” said Phil. They kissed again, and Dan felt heady from the booze and Phil’s words and the fact that for once in his life, he was loved.

No matter the circumstances, Daniel Howell finally, _finally_ felt truly loved. And like Eliza and Jeff, no matter how imperfect, their love was worth celebrating.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry I went MIA. I had to move house again. Cheers to being a millennial and having no idea what I'm doing with my life. I promised fluff, did I deliver? Comment down below if you liked this lighter chapter or if you want me to get back to the incest, gore, and angst. I've got some tricky tricks up my sleeves, so get ready for our happy boys to feel hell, I've had this part of the story planned since last summer.


	18. Chapter 18

After the “wedding” and Dan’s confession, the two brothers fell onto the same wavelength, it seemed. Days were spent survival prepping. Nights, however, were decadent like summer vacations. They spent the time doing whatever they pleased, as the two men finally felt the tension between them lift. Despite the cold of late November creeping up, nights became hotter and hotter as they explored each other’s bodies, pushing the limits of what could and couldn’t be done. Dan looked foreword to nights with a type of teenage giddiness. Phil found himself wandering off into daydreams while they worked, thinking of all the different ways he could make his younger brother cry out in pleasure.

The days were not as indulgent, however. Phil created plans for different type of barriers to protect the house, making the back garden practically unrecognizable as it was covered with wires and traps and noisemakers. They set up different escape plans, tuned into the radio static for hours, and even made small trips to check on any remaining neighbors, only to find that everyone had fled. They explored the attic for useful supplies, created makeshift weapons, did their laundry by hand in the bathtub, and made detailed meal plans to see how long they could last until spring. After bit of arguing and stressing, the brothers managed another Tesco run safely, and noted how the whole of their suburb of London appeared eerily void of life. It felt as if the entire world disappeared, leaving only Dan and Phil. Some nights, Phil wondered if that was why things became so intense so quickly. It felt like they were stuck in a heady champagne bubble, that the rest of the world didn’t exist anymore.

However, as the first week of December rolled around, they both faced a reminder that they were not, in fact, alone.

* * *

**10 Days**

“Fuck, fuck, pleases don’t stop,” mumbled Phil.

It was late. The day was spent taping broken glass to the windowsills, drying their clothes on a line in the basement, and creating a makeshift fire place by busting a hole through the drywall and stacking bricks on either side. Dinner was a single can of pinto beans. Yet Phil wasn’t tired at all—in fact, he was wide away, panting with one hand wrapped around Dan’s curls, as Dan’s mouth pressed hot on his cock. For an inexperienced virgin, Dan managed to take Phil deep into his throat, massaging the tip with his tongue in a way he knew would drive his older brother crazy.

They’d only just started doing oral on each other recently, and it seemed that was all they wanted to do now that they’d crossed the threshold. They collapsed in bed after a hard day’s work, but Phil barely had time to get a word in edgewise before Dan was pawing at the button of his jeans and muttering dirty nothings into Phil’s mouth.

That was how they ended up with Phil, still dressed in his day clothes, and Dan, hard and needy yet glancing up at his older brother through thick lashes and a hint of a cheeky grin. He pulled off only to run a hand teasingly over Phil’s balls, then kitten licked all the way up the side of his cock.

“Stop teasing me,” whined Phil lightly. Gently, he ran the back of his knuckles up and down Dan’s shoulder in a soothing, gentle show of affection. Despite the fact he was absolutely overwhelmed with Dan’s little performance, Phil still found himself having trouble getting into the dirty talk, likely out of fear that if he were to let himself go completely, it could get downright filthy. Fast. The situation was already so many levels of wrong and kinky. Things were finally good. He didn’t want to ruin them by scaring Dan off, even if Dan was a constant instigator with the libido of a college student.

“Make me,” mumbled Dan quietly. Phil chose not to reply, instead deciding to bring his fist up to his mouth and bite at his knuckles to keep from speaking. Dan suckled lazily at the tip of Phil’s cock, flicking his brown eyes up to gauge Phil’s reaction.

The little shit. He was always pushing things.

“Come on, Phil, I told you to… make me. Stop. Teasing you….” said Dan between mouthfuls of cock.

Dan was really getting into it. He alternated between deep throating and sucking the tip, then brought his hand up to give his tired mouth a break, giving Phil’s cock quick pumps and bringing him closer and closer to the edge. Phil bit down on his knuckles even harder and screwed his eyes shut. Dipping back down, Dan felt Phil’s cock twitch in his mouth, and smirked as he pulled away. Phil’s eyes fluttered open.

“Stop this,” demanded Dan. He took Phil’s wrist, yanking his hand away from his mouth, then draped himself onto Phil’s lap, kissing up and down his jaw. Between their clothed bodies, Phil’s cock leaked and throbbed, and all he could do was whimper pathetically.

“I’m not… I can’t…”

Despite Phil’s frustration, Dan responded with energized little nips at the older’s collarbone. His hand teasingly brushed at Phil’s cock between them. Phil felt dizzy with need.

“No more holding back. I know what kind of stuff you’re into… Talk to me. Tell me how wrong this is and how much you like it. Tell me how much you like having your little brother suck your cock. Please, Phil, please please, I—”

His resolve crumbled. With a frustrated grunt, Phil pushed Dan onto the bed, then climbed atop him, kissing the younger hard and yanking at his curls roughly. Dan arched his back, whined into his mouth, and in a rushed heat they began to pull off their clothing, which felt suddenly warm despite the December chill. Phil’s brain was so addled with lust, he didn’t take the time to worry about the consequences, or consider what he would do or say next. He just needed Dan. Whether that was a need for a distraction, or simply a desire to let go with the person he loved the most, Phil wasn’t sure. However, he _did_ know that he needed desperately to cum.

“Needy slut,” Phil mumbled against Dan’s skin. It was quiet, but husky. He reached down, wrapping his hand around his brother’s tiny prick, and began jerking him off roughly, causing Dan to rake his nails down his back. 

“More,” begged Dan. He reached down and took Phil’s length in his hand as well, stroking the other with equal intensity. They found a rhythm that worked between their sweat soaked bodies. The heat pooled in the bottom of Phil’s stomach, but he held on longer, wanting his release to be even better than the night before, or the night before that, or the night before that. God, this rush between them was inevitable, as it seemed each night they couldn’t help but go a little farther, to push it just a little more. It was thrilling, the things Dan could do to him, but so wrong at the same time.

“Such a slut you’ll do anything for a cock… mm sucking me off, so pretty…”

“More.”

If there was any shred of dignity left in Phil, he couldn’t remember it, not with the way Dan was panting against his bare skin, or the way his hand felt wrapped around his cock, so much more confident than the first time, but just as desperate. Phil swatted Dan’s hand away. Taking both of their cocks in hand, Phil sucked in a sharp breath as he felt Dan throbbing against him.

“What else is there to say? You’re such a desperate little virgin, you’d be willing to take your own brother’s cock,” Phil choked out as he stroked their lengths in unison, his climax building rapidly. Dan never lasted long, so unsurprisingly he came first, spilling his hot seed both onto Phil’s hand and all over his cock. The act alone pushed Phil to his tipping point, but what really sent him over the edge was Dan scooping cum onto his fingers then bringing them to his mouth without breaking eye contact. 

When the two came down from their high, Dan had enough courtesy to fetch Phil a washcloth and grab their knit sweaters. A comfortable silence fell between them as their readied for bed, but Phil was still catching his breath by the time Dan laid down beside him.

“Holy shit,” giggled Dan. As usual, he showered Phil with gentle affection that was in absolute stark contrast to their interactions prior. Snuggling into his shoulder, Dan muttered a few “I love you” ‘s, and ran his fingertips along all the Phil’s hickies in varying shades of purple and yellow, depending on when they were given. Phil reciprocated the affection, nuzzling into his brother’s damp curls, but frowned nonetheless.

“Was that okay? What I said back there?” he asked quietly after Dan said “I love you” for what felt like the hundredth time. It seemed now that it held the meaning he wanted it to, Dan couldn’t stop saying it. It was one of those sweet little things about Dan that made Phil regret every moment they hadn’t been together. All those years of living under the same roof, and Phil never had any idea…

“Are you joking? That was great,” replied Dan. Phil sighed and let his eyes flutter closed.

“It was just… intense is all.”

“Isn’t that a good thing?”

“Well yes, I just… I worry, sometimes I’m too…” Phil waved his hand in the air, as he was uncertain how to end the sentence. Dan responded by taking his hand and planting a soft kiss on the palm.

“I’ve told you before, it’s okay to just… do and say whatever. I know the fact that we are brothers is still a sticking point, but it’s fine, Phil, I promise,” assured Dan. Satisfied, Phil sank deeper into the pillows, and squeezed his brother a little tighter. Everything seemed so different. Even the way Dan talked seemed more mature and calm and… happy, even. At this point, Phil accepted the world was ending, so he decided to put it out of his mind that there was any reason to hold back.

He loved Dan. That was all that really mattered.

* * *

**9 Days**

Dan sipped on stale instant coffee and watched the sun rise from his place on the rooftop. Phil’s plans for the day required coffee: overturning soil before it froze solid and putting a tarp over where their future garden would be. Then after tea they were going to create a safe room in the basement by installing a second door, the only catch being that the whole process would require removing Dan’s bedroom door then reinstalling it in the basement. It was a good idea, but also sounded like a goddamn nightmare.

Through the open window, Dan glanced at his sleeping brother, who looked peaceful in the early morning light. Unable to help himself, Dan set his coffee down, crawled through the window, and curled back up in their warm bed. It was beginning to get quite cold, and soon Dan wouldn’t be able to have rooftop breakfasts anymore.

“Time to wake up,” mumbled Dan as he wrapped his arms around Phil’s waist and nuzzled his side. Groaning, Phil moved to bury his head in the pillows, but Dan held tight.

“You’re always so difficult to wake up in the mornings,” complained Dan. Phil didn’t bother responding, but instead kept his eyes screwed shut as Dan crawled atop him. Leaning foreword, he gave Phil a chaste kiss, mindful of their morning breath. At this, Phil’s eyes finally opened, but as soon as Dan broke the kiss, he closed them again and hummed softly. Dan bent foreword and rested his head on Phil’s chest. He could hear the older’s heartbeat. For a moment, they were still.

“We should skip the whole door thing and have a Trouble tournament instead.”

Dan never realized how much he enjoyed board and card games until the invasion. They were like video games, but calmer, somehow. During their Tesco run, Dan grabbed a few bottles of wine for special occasions, so he hoped secretly he could convince Phil to forget about survival prepping for one day and instead play games while wine drunk until bed.

“No,” mumbled Phil. His voice was gravelly with sleep, and a bit hoarse from the night before. Dan rolled his eyes.

“You’re no fun.”

At this, Dan rose from his spot atop his brother. He messily stumbled out of bed and returned to his stakeout on the roof, allowing Phil a few more minutes of sleep. When Dan took a sip of his coffee, it’d gone cold. As he scanned the rooftops, his mind wandered to the day’s plans, and his stomach grumbled from being underfed, but the coffee was beginning to help quell the gnawing hunger. All was peaceful until he noticed a figure crumbled on the ground on the side street behind their house.

Dipping back into the room, Dan grabbed a pair of binoculars resting on the nightstand kept for such occasions. After a quick chug of the dregs of his coffee, Dan held the binoculars up to his eyes and located the figure while adjusting the dials. The fuzzy image of a slumped figure became clear, and what Dan saw nearly made him scream. As Dan launched himself back into the home, he knocked over his coffee cup and it shattered on the ground below.

“This is bad,” said Phil. The binoculars were pressed against his eyes, and Dan held out an impatient hand for another turn. It wasn’t like he hadn’t seen it. For the past half hour they’d been pressed against the window pane taking horrified turns with the binoculars and marveling what they were supposed to do.

The slumped figure was of their neighbor. Neither brother knew the neighbor, but they’d seen him on occasion fetching his mail or tending the flowers in the front yard. He was a single, working man in his late forties with no kids and a bright blue car. That was all they knew about him.

Furthermore, the problem with the man wasn’t that he was dead or even that he’d been taken over by one of the aliens; no, the problem lied in the fact that their neighbor, dead in the street, appeared to be covered in a multitude of little pustules, a manner of bumps that looked strikingly similar to smallpox.

Phil was born in 1987. Small pox was eradicated in 1980. By 1981, children stopped receiving the vaccine, as they were unnecessary and left a scar. If the man was, in fact, covered in small pox, that meant that the brothers were in even more danger than before. Neither knew what to do with the information.

As Phil handed the binoculars to Dan, he rubbed the sleep from his eyes and sighed deeply.

“Okay, I think I’ve got a plan. We need to spend the next month indoors, strictly, not even going out on this rooftop anymore. We’ll stuff sheets under the doors, cover up that hole we made for a fire in mum and dad’s room… Once we get a good freeze, that should keep us safe, as long as we don’t encounter any other people. We have enough supplies to last us until March. I think we should be okay.”

Dan didn’t question his older brother, he simply nodded solemnly and led the way downstairs. True to his word, Phil brought up an armload of old sheets from the basement, then instructed Dan on where to tuck them. The duck taped the slats between the windows and the house, then both took a long, albeit freezing, shower, and curled up in bed by noon.

Both laid in miserable silence, yet held each other close. Dan backed away when Phil tried to kiss him.

“I was outside today, you weren’t. I could be—”

“Shut up,” said Phil. In a way that wasn’t characteristic, Phil grabbed Dan’s chin to hold him in place and kissed him languidly. Dan sighed into the kiss, but understood: he wouldn’t want to be in a world without Phil either. If they were going down, they were going down together.

* * *

**8 Days**

“Wake up.”

Dan felt his arm move, and a light jab in the stomach as he came to. He’d fallen asleep in the crook of Phil’s legs, only to be woken up by his brother wiggling his knees around and jostling Dan from his slumber. Blinking, Dan found the room a muted peach color. It was sunset.

“Sorry,” said Dan, wiping the sleep from his eyes. Phil sighed, then dropped the book he’d been holding onto the pillow beside them.

“I told you no falling asleep during story time,” chided Phil, gesturing vaguely to their shared copy of _The Hobbit_. Dan grinned.

“It’s not my fault your voice is so soothing.”

He twisted around in Phil’s legs and kissed him sleepily with a little bit of tongue. When he pressed foreword, however, Phil broke the kiss as his lips became occupied with a smile.

“We still need to eat dinner, stop trying to seduce me,” said Phil. Dan couldn’t help but lean foreword, allowing his breath to ghost Phil’s lip as he spoke, a hand travelling its way up his thigh.

“Who said anything about seduction?” teased Dan. With a breathless giggle, Phil scooted away and took the hand that’d been trying to rile him up.

“I think canned peaches are on the menu tonight. And I want you to drink the syrup,” with this, Phil poked at Dan’s ribs, which were becoming more prominent each day. Dan hadn’t minded—in fact, he’d needed to lose a bit of weight before the aliens anyway—but Phil kept trying to share food with him everyday either from some fraternal concern or blindly anxious love.

“Alright, fine. After that, can we do another Uno tournament?”

“Only if winner has to read aloud the next book. I want to be the sleepy, lazy one for once.”

* * *

**7 Days**

“I love these. They’re even cooler than the paper stars from the wedding,” commented Dan as he stuck another plastic bit to the ceiling. A zipping from underneath him indicated that Phil pulled more tape, and without looking down, Dan held a hand out for another piece. Phil stuck the tape to the tip of his pointer finger. Dan brought it to eye level, twisted it into a little clump, then proceeded to stick it to another plastic star from the stack precariously balanced on the top of his wardrobe.

“Don’t diss your paper stars. I loved them. I’ve stolen a couple and tucked them all around the house. There’s one in my coat pocket, another in my backpack…” replied Phil. As Dan worked, Phil held the ladder steady, trying to ignore the flutter of anxiety in his chest as he worried about a fall. Without medical services, the slightest injury could be fatal. Phil had never been aware of how weak they both were until the attacks. Dan always seemed fragile to Phil, but now that fragility took on a whole new meaning.

“Sounds like you want one if you ever leave the house,” commented Dan off hand as he stuck a particularly large star directly above their headboard. In a childish way, the biggest seemed to be the best, and Dan wanted them both to have a great view of the star as they laid tangled together to sleep at night.

“If I ever leave the house, I know I’ll want one. I can’t imagine any good circumstances leading to us leaving the house,” replied Phil grimly. Dan didn’t reply, only held his fingers down for more tape.

When he was finished, Dan tried to close the curtains and darken the room, but the stars still needed charging by the daylight. The day seemed to drag on more than usual, but by midafternoon, both brothers had all but forgotten about the plastic stars above their shared bed. After a long day’s work of taping down the slats in the windows and scrubbing down every surface with bleach, Dan’s whole body ached by the time he slid on his filthy pajamas. Shivering, he huddled close to Phil for warmth.

“Look,” muttered Phil sleepily. Dan glanced up. With a synthetic glow, the stars above them created a fake constellation that made Dan feel small. It reminded him of the fact they couldn’t go outside to look at the stars anymore. It reminded Dan of his childhood. It reminded him of sugared cereal and electricity and television, things that he actually missed about the world Before. However, it also reminded him of pillow forts with Phil and secrets shared by flashlight late at night and those moments of love that would eventually blossom into something more.

In the greenish glow of the plastic stars, Dan turned to Phil and kissed him gently. They kissed with eyes closed, and their meeting of lips became softer and softer as they were both tugged into an exhausted sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa! Hey all, it's been a hot sec. So I wrote the smutty stuff about 2 days before Dan came out, and then I felt, like a lot of fic authors, really weird and uncomfortable about moving foreword with my writing. Likewise, not to be discourse-y on main, but I'm pretty comfortable in my stance that fan works live as a separate entity, and both Dan and Phil have made it pretty clear to their fans they don't have an issue with fanfic, and that I don't feel I am breaking any etiquette by continuing to write my filth. So here it is, I hope you enjoy. I'm having a lot of fun writing this fluffy stuff leading to a countdown to.... something... that you guys won't know about until we get there! I've had this twist planned since the start, so I cannot wait until that countdown gets to 0. It'll be fun... for me at least... ;)


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